


Growin' up Guardian

by Molli3



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Kraglin, Birthday Party, Discipline, Family, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Kraglin's a good big brother, Marvel Universe, Missions, Nightmares, Outer Space, Parent Yondu Udonta, Peter Quill becoming a thief, Peter Quill growing up, Peter is sometimes a little shit, Pre-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Protectiveness, Sickfic, Spanking, Yondad, Yondu's a good dad, Young Peter, Young Peter Quill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-14 06:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 143,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molli3/pseuds/Molli3
Summary: Starting when Peter left earth at 8-years-old: Short stories of Yondu raising Peter in the Ravagers. The relationship he and Kraglin had before it obviously became strained and how everyone's favorite Yondad made Star Lord into the man he is...Some include- general growing up, sick fic, kidnapping, teaching skills and life lessons, injury, comfort (but not too much, this is Yondu), girls, drinking, parental spanking, space adventures, lots of feels, AND I'm still taking prompt suggestions!





	1. I wanna go home

She was dead. Peter knew she was going to die, everyone had been telling him she would for a while, but it wasn't real, until it was. The young boy screamed with anger, grief and fear as his grandfather carried him from the hospital room. He'd lost his chance to say good-bye all because he didn't want it to be real. It wasn't real, she couldn't be dead, but everyone was crying as the heart monitor flatlined and Peter ran. Down the clean hospital halls, bursting through the heavy door into the misty night. Agony tore at his heart as tears poured down his cheeks and Peter collapsed on the grass, wracked with sobs.

The brightest light he'd ever seen blinded him as he tried to look up, rumbling echoed in his ears and sudden high-winds whipped his flannel shirt and hair. Peter was frozen with fear and, as his feet left the ground, the eight-year-old let out a terrified shriek.

"MOM!"

The rumbling softened, the wind was still and the blinding light was gone. Peter shivered, blinking his tear-filled eyes as they slowly focused in the strange place. The floor beneath him was hard and cold, he crawled to his knees, but as the scene became clear, Peter fell back, pushing himself quickly away from the monsters looming over him. His back hit a wall and the young boy screamed, putting his hands over his head in an attempt to protect himself from the large blue hand reaching for him.

"A'right, boy, ain't nothin' t'be scared'aAARRGH!" The strange man retracted his hand from the kid's arm when Peter's teeth had sunken into his blue skin.

"That's the captain you little-" a man, who looked like a man, stepped forward on Peter angrily and the young boy cowered, but the blue man roughly pulled him back, cutting off the livid statement.

"Kraglin!" he barked, throwing the man back into the crowd of strange beings, "I don't need y'r'help! All'a you! Git outta here!"

Peter watched through his fingers as the group dispersed, returning his gaze to the blue man. He looked like a man, except for the blue skin and red mohawk, but it wasn't hair and Peter was reminded of the reflector on the back of his bike. His bike, waiting at home for him, a home that no longer had a mother and Peter felt his nose tingle as more tears started falling.

"Hey, boy," the blue man's voice was gruff, but he crouched and dipped his head to meet his red eyes with Peter's, "Y'r'okay, ain't gonna hurt'cha. My name's Yondu. What's yours?"

Peter didn't respond, but pulled his backpack to his chest, hugging it close and trying to avoid looking at the blood red eyes.

"C'mon, no need f'r'all the tears," Yondu put a hand on Peter's knee and the boy ripped his leg away, "I know y'r'scared."

"I wanna go home," Peter mumbled, wiping his cheeks with his flannel sleeve.

Yondu sighed and stood to his full height, "Well, y'got some place else t'be now. C'mon I'll show y'where y'r'stayin'."

"I wanna go home!" Peter yelled, still huddled in the corner.

"Boy!" Yondu barked and Peter flinched, "Y'ain't goin' back! Now, y'got two choices, listen t'me 'n be a good boy or I'm gonna feed'ja t'my crew, they ain't never tasted terran before, you'd be a real treat."

"T-ter-ran?" Peter stumbled through his fear and more sobs.

"You, boy," Yondu nodded, "Now, what's y'r'name?"

"P-Peter," he stammered, "Peter Quill."

"Y'gonna mind me, Petey?" Yondu asked, his eyebrow raised, if he'd had eyebrows.

Peter nodded, deciding he was more afraid of the group of monsters than the single monster that seemed to have control over them, pushing himself to his feet with shaking legs and followed the captain as he moved swiftly from the room. He wiped his damp eyes to be sure what he was seeing was really there as they moved through the dark hallway.

"Is this the Death Star?" Peter glanced up at Yondu, who furrowed his brow hard.

"The what?" the captain scoffed.

"Never mind," Peter mumbled, but continued to swivel his head from one side of the futuristic corridor to the other as they walked.

They passed a few crew members and Peter tried to avert his eyes, but it was hard not to stare at the monstrous beings. Some had horns, a few had spikes, all of them were huge and varied in skin tone, though several had scales and a couple Peter couldn't even venture to guess what they were made of. He hurried his short legs to keep up with Yondu's long strides, turning when the captain did and craning his neck to make sure he didn't miss anything in the strange place.

The hallway opened up and Peter looked down as they crossed a bridge and saw a seemingly endless pit of blinking lights and cables, he didn't have time to observe closer as Yondu walked briskly to the other side. Peter's eyes widened as he looked ahead again, squinting at the huge picture at the end of the hall.

A long, squat console sat below it and several crew members manned different machines in the large room as Yondu and Peter neared it, but the young boy stopped and his jaw fell as the massive picture filled with stars, planets and distant clouds of galaxies became clear, moving before him. It wasn't a picture, it was a window.

Peter couldn't help himself, finding his feet moving towards the beautiful scene, pressing his face to the glass, taking in all he could see of the limitless space ahead.

"Boy!" Yondu barked and Peter jumped, pulling his backpack straps as he nervously covered his chest, the captain's tone softened a bit as he took two strides and looked out the window, putting a hand on Peter's shoulder, "It's beautiful, isn't it? I hardly even pay attention anymore, jumpin' from galaxy t'galaxy the way we do, but it really is somethin' isn't it?" Peter nodded and leaned into Yondu, the captain wasn't particularly warm or kind, but, as the young boy looked out at the endless darkness of space and around at the monsters eyeing him with salivating stares, he longed for any comfort he could get, his nose tingled with the threat of tears when the blue man's hand tightened a bit on his shoulder.

"My Mom's dead," Peter whispered, unsure if he was telling Yondu or just admitting it to himself.

"I know," the captain nodded, "I'm sorry."

Peter reacted in pure emotion, a sob burst from his lips as his arms wrapped around Yondu's middle, crying into his leather jacket. His legs gave into the grief, but Peter didn't collapse to the ground because Yondu's strong arms pulled him close, cradling the young boy as he sobbed into his chest.

"Y'all lose y'r'mother 'n see if you'd be any different," the captain sneered before turning and leaving the room with Peter in his arms.

It took a few minutes for the child to calm himself enough to wipe his eyes and lift his head from the leather covered shoulder, but, when he did, Peter found himself in what looked like a large studio apartment, curled in Yondu's lap on an arm chair. He felt embarrassed and heat rose to his cheeks as he hurried off the captain's lap, it had been a long time since anyone had held him like that, he wasn't a little kid anymore.

"Y'r'eye always look like that?" Yondu tapped his own left eye as he asked the question and Peter shook his head, "What happened?"

"Got in a fight," Peter shrugged.

"Over what?" the blue man asked.

"These other boys killed a frog with a stick," the young boy muttered.

"What's a frog?" the captain inclined his head.

Peter's head followed suit as he responded, "A frog? It's a little animal, green, they live in water, ponds 'n stuff."

Yondu laughed hard for a few moments before squaring his bloody gaze back on the child, "Well, what the hell'd y'do that for?"

"I defend those who can't defend themselves," Peter said firmly, locking his gaze on the red eyes, despite the chill of fear that soaked through him, "My Mom said I'm just like my Dad. You have t'take me home, he's supposed t'come get me!"

"Did y'r'Momma ever tell y'where y'r'Daddy was from?" Yondu asked.

"The stars," Peter repeated what she had said many times, never sure what it meant, but the window of planets and galaxies came to mind and his eyes widened at the blue man on the chair, "Are you my-"

Yondu was already shaking his head before he interrupted the young boy, "M'not y'r'Daddy, jus'told t'pick y'up 'n take y'somewhere."

"Where?" Peter asked nervously.

"Don'worry about it right now," Yondu nodded slowly, "Orders haven't come in yet."

Peter nodded his understanding, but finished with a long yawn, exhausted from all the emotions that had surged through him in such a short span of time, not to mention there had to be some effect from the vast change in altitude.

"There's a bed over there," Yondu jerked his head to the far corner behind a black curtain, "Go lay down."

"I'm okay," Peter assured him.

"I ain't gonna tell y'again, boy," the captain growled and Peter gulped, turning and walking in the indicated direction instantly, slipping behind the curtain and crawling onto the large bed.

It was rather comfy, though Peter would've preferred his own bed to any bed in any galaxy in any universe and couldn't help it as a few tears leaked onto the pillow he laid his head on, pulling the blankets over himself and taking his cassette player from his backpack. He put the headphones over his ears and hit the play button, immediately, the Jackson 5 started singing 'I want you back'. Peter buried his head in the pillow and let the tears flow, beating the soft surface with his fists as he sobbed and cried for his bike, his own bed, and mostly his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Can I get a kudo? C'mon, press the button, it'll feel sooo good =) 
> 
> Prompt responses are being taken!


	2. The Milano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't hate his job cleaning the small corners of Yondu's fleet, but when Kraglin needs the help of his little hands in the engine compartment a new world of interest opens up to the young boy.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been with the Ravagers, but Peter knew it had to have been a few weeks considering how many meals he'd had to choke down. At first, he was sure whatever they were trying to feed him was poison, but it hadn't killed him, simply making him wish he was dead every time he had to force a squishy or slimy portion passed his lips. He had to eat though. The first few days he'd refused, but Yondu wasn't one to be refused and eventually won the battle by force feeding the boy until a sobbing Peter finally relented and promised he'd eat on his own accord.

Yondu scared him, but he wasn't always hard and gruff, mostly just in front of the crew. Peter kept away from the crew as much as he could, staying in the lonely, little cell they'd assigned him to as long as he could every day, but the Captain wouldn't let him lay in his own misery. He found jobs for Peter, tasks to keep the boy busy and out of the crew's way. At first, Peter was unenthused over the idea of chores, but when Yondu walked him into a huge room filled with small spacecrafts, his opinion began to change.

It had become Peter's job to clean the small nooks and crannies of the ships that the crew members had a hard time reaching. He worked diligently and quietly, almost enjoying his job because the ships were really cool. A loud, agrivated yell echoed close and a startled Peter whacked his head on the underside of the control console in the small craft he was cleaning.

"Hey, you, boy!" Kraglin's weasel- like face appeared in the entrance as Peter rubbed his head on the floor under the driver's seat, "C'mere."

Peter followed, Kraglin was possibly the only other Ravager besides Yondu he wasn't completely terrified of, but the First Mate certainly tried to intimidate the boy. He followed the man up a scaffold perched next to the open engine bays outside the ship and Peter peered into the dark mess of wires and cables.

"There's a couple ports that need connectin'," Kraglin shined a light into the dark compartment, "That red one goes in the top one 'n the blue one right under it. My hand's too big, can't get in there," Peter noticed Kraglin's cut up and bleeding fingers as he pointed at the swinging wires.

He lifted onto his toes as high as he could, reaching into the engine bay with grasping fingers, but he was still a ways from the dangling wires. Peter gasped with surprise when his feet left the ground and banged his head on the inside of the compartment as he wriggled to free himself from Kraglin's grasp.

"Relax, kid," the First Mate growled, "M'not gonna drop y'in there unless y'keep wrigglin'."

Peter stopped fighting and let Kraglin lower him into the engine guts, making it much easier to slide his hand in the cramped space and connect the red and blue wires to the indicated ports.

"Okay," Peter called and Kraglin pulled him from the compartment, righting the boy on his feet a little roughly.

"Go turn on the power for me," the man jerked his head and Peter's eyes widened at him, the First Mate sighed, "The big button by the accelerator controls, push it once, not twice."

Peter nodded his understanding and hurried down the scaffold and back into the ship. He really liked this one in particular, even though there were several others nearly identical to it, Peter was drawn to the bright blue and orange craft. He pulled himself into the cockpit and found the button, pushing it once and watching the control console lights blink to life.

He couldn't stop staring at the console, a radar map flickered a moment before showing clear coordinates on a vast map of wherever it was they were. His fingers traced the lights, buttons and levers, wishing he knew how to fly it, an escape from the strange life he was living, a passage back home.

"Lookin' good, kid," Kraglin said as he walked up behind Peter in the cockpit and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Nice job."

"Thanks," Peter grinned modestly.

"Kraglin!" Yondu barked and both the First Mate and young boy jumped before hurrying out of the ship.

"Yes, Captain?" Kraglin practically jumped off the craft to stand in front of his commander.

"Where's the boy?" Yondu growled.

"Here," Peter squeaked from behind Kraglin and took a step to the side, averting his eyes from the blue man.

"Is he helpin' 'r gettin' in the way?" Yondu asked Kraglin.

"Got that piece'a crap t'turn on finally," Kraglin shrugged, "That ship was built f'r'his skinny arms."

"Is it runnin'?" Yondu asked with intrigue.

"Not yet," Kraglin shook his head, "but soon, now that I got someone who can fit in those tiny engine spots."

Peter stood a little taller, feeling a little proud at the almost compliment Kraglin had given him.

"Well, y'better rename it when y'r'done," Yondu commented, "I don'know who came up with The Albacore, but it was a terrible name 'n bad luck."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded.

"You listen and do what he says, Petey," Yondu ordered firmly.

"Yes, sir," Peter agreed.

"You help him get this piece'a junk in the air 'n you can name it," Yondu smirked.

"Really?!" Peter exclaimed.

"Sure, kid," the Captain almost smiled at the boy's excitement and turned from the hanger, walking swiftly down the hall.

"C'mon, Pete," Kraglin jerked his head as he walked back towards the spacecraft, "back t'work."

Peter was even more eager to help with the promise of naming the ship as reward, he already had the perfect name and couldn't stop thinking of Alyssa Milano for the next several hours while he followed Kraglin's orders. By the time the First Mate decided to wrap up their work for the day, Peter had learned to understand the difference in wires and cables based on colors and patterns. Kraglin had also showed him the turbines, explaining how the ship moved through space and what it took to keep the little craft running. Peter was enthralled, begging to stay when Kraglin told him it was time to go, even trying to beg the man after he threatened the boy with bodily harm, but finally, Kraglin was able to coax him out with the promise of a service manual he could read.

Peter was disheartened to find the manual in a language he'd never seen, but there were a lot of pictures and diagrams so he tried to decipher what he could.

"Chow time, boy," Yondu pulled open the door of Peter's room, inclining his head at the young boy holding his head in frustration as he studied the pages in front of him, "What'cha got there?"

"Manual," Peter mumbled, "I can't read it."

"Course not," Yondu scoffed, but soften when Peter sighed sadly, "What're y'tryin' t'figure out?"

The Captain sat on the little bed next to Peter and pulled the service manual so it rested between them. His small fingers started pointing at symbols and listened intently as Yondu answered his questions and explained the basic principles of the language. Peter didn't expect to understand Kree, but found the symbols starting to make sense in context as Yondu continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worth continuing?


	3. Understanding the Hierarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter hides after being repeatedly attacked by one of the Ravagers. How does the Captain respond to finding out one of his crew hurt the boy?

"Peter!" Yondu's voice echoed angrily through the Elector's corridors, making the boy in the vents overhead shiver, "Where are y'boy?!"

He'd been hiding in the air vents since the night before and Yondu was obviously done with the drawn-out game of hide and seek. Peter almost called out to the Captain as the red mohawk passed below him, but the ache in his sides reminded him to keep his mouth shut. He really wished he had his cassette player.

Mostly he was good about staying away from the crew, but, for the last few weeks, one of the spikier Ravagers named Skapraun had seemed to have it out for him. Every time he turned a corner he was bumping into the massive creature, literally, right into his hard, bulging middle. Peter did everything he could to stay out of Skapraun's way, but it was like the Ravager sought him out so he could attack the boy for any misstep. At first, he'd merely yelled loud enough to make Peter nearly pee his pants, but the last two encounters with the angry beast had left him with bruises covering his torso. After the second beating Peter had crawled away and happened upon a loose grate, finding solace in the ventilation system despite the occasional burst of freezing cold air.

His stomach was growling, he'd even eat the weird, squid-looking thing that squirmed when he chewed it, but Skapraun had threatened to kill him the next time he saw him. Peter preferred the idea of dying from starvation to being eaten alive, so he was staying in the vent.

"Peter!" Yondu barked again, somewhere further down the hall, "You better come out here boy 'r so help me!"

The Captain had started asking about him when he wasn't in his bed for lights out, prowling the halls for hours until Kraglin had convinced him the boy would turn up and he needed to sleep. Peter hardly slept, curled up in the vents, wrapping his scrawny arms around himself as his teeth chattered from the cold.

The last few hours since he'd woken, however, Yondu was on a hunt for the child. His growling voice echoed through the vents no matter where the Captain was on the huge ship, and he was checking every inch of it. A couple times, Peter wanted to reveal his location, but the dull anguish in his chest and ribs stopped him.

"Where the hell could he'a gone?" Yondu thought aloud to himself, walking slowly back up the hall, "Damn it, Pete, why y'doin' this t'me?"

Peter quietly slid closer to the grate, seeing the Captain just below him, running a frustrated hand over his red mohawk, and, for some reason, Peter thought of the time he'd hid from his Grandfather at a store. He was maybe five and thought it would be funny, but his Grandfather had gotten scared, fast, his face turned red and he started begging people in the store to help him find the little boy. Peter had burst out of a rack of clothing, apologizing through tears to his Grandfather, who held him tight and almost started crying himself, though he did give the child a few good swats on his bottom when they got to the car.

Yondu looked upset, genuinely upset, not just angry. Peter's stomach twisted with guilt along with the pangs of hunger and he considered speaking up again. Before he'd fully made a decision, however, his starvation betrayed him and a loud, low growl broke the silence. Peter froze, hoping Yondu hadn't heard, but as the red eyes raised to the vent grate and met his own, he knew there was no such luck.

As the Captain ripped the grate roughly from the metal frame, Peter crawled backwards, keeping his eyes trained on the blue hands reaching towards him, but managed to get safely out of Yondu's reach.

"Git out here now!" he barked, his hands whipping from side to side.

"I c-can't," Peter stammered, his nose tingling with the threat of tears, but pressed the back of his hand to his face, forcing them not to fall.

"What?!" Yondu asked incredulously, "What'd'ya mean y'can't?! That's an order boy, front 'n center, now!"

Peter sobbed, unable to hold it back, knowing leaving the vent meant he'd end up as Skapraun's dinner, possibly even just a snack considering the size of the monster. Yondu's hands stilled, but his knuckles paled to a lighter blue as he pulled himself up till his forearms were supporting him in the vent, shaking his head at the young boy.

"What're y'cryin' for already?" he scoffed, "I ain't even got my hands on ya yet."

"Could you just kill me first?" Peter cried.

"What?" Yondu furrowed his brow.

"Before Skapraun eats me," the boy whimpered, "Will you please kill me first?"

Yondu's expression hardened briefly before it softened, along with his tone, "Ain't no body gonna eat'cha, least ways not without my permission, 'n he ain't got it, that spike-headed idiot talks a lotta crap. Don't listen to him. Now git out here!"

Peter didn't see another choice and crawled towards the Captain who was lowering himself to the ground. When he reached the edge of the vent, Peter grimaced at Yondu's outstretched arms, anticipating the pain that would soon come, but allowed the blue hands to wrap around his skinny ribs. The stifled cry and sharp inhale was not missed by the Captain.

"What's wrong, boy?" he asked, setting him on his feet.

"Nothin'," Peter averted his eyes while wiping tears from his cheek.

"Don't nothin' me, boy," Yondu growled softly, pulling at the bottom of Peter's t-shirt, but, before he could lift it, the child wrenched away.

He whimpered from fear and the pain throbbing in his sides, unable to meet the Captain's eyes even as he dipped his blue head under the boy's gaze. The tears streaming silently down Peter's pale face made Yondu stop tugging at his boney shoulder and instead ran his hand over the boy's shaggy, brown hair. The unexpected tenderness made Peter's nose tingle more and he couldn't help as more tears gushed from his eyes and a sob passed his lips.

"Let me see," Yondu insisted in the gentlest voice he had and Peter nodded, lifting his t-shirt to his belly-button, but relenting the fabric to the Captain as he examined the boy's torso further, "Skapraun did this?" Peter knew he wasn't supposed to snitch, that was a rule on Earth too, but he couldn't lie to Yondu, he really couldn't, he'd know he was lying, and offered a very small nod.

For a moment, Yondu was silent, biting his lips as he stared at the damage to Peter's middle, turning the boy a little and making a low growling sound after finishing his inspection. He lowered Peter's shirt and stood to his full, intimidating height, taking a deep breath and letting out a bellow that made the boy actually jump off the ground.

"KRAGLIN!"

It seemed regardless of where the First Mate was or what he was doing, he scurried to attention when his Captain called, this time shaking as he managed to move twice as fast as normal.

"Yes, Capt'n," he stammered, coming to a sliding stop in front of Yondu and Peter, glancing at the boy before returning his attention to his commander, "You found Peter."

"I did," Yondu nodded, the smirk on his face was dangerous, "Call a crew meetin', we got some things t'discuss," with that he walked passed his First Mate down the hall, "With me, Petey."

Peter sighed with relief and hurried after the Captain, careful to stay close to him.

They made their way to the mess hall and Peter followed Yondu up to the head table where the Captain always sat alone to eat. He turned in front of the table and slid onto it, letting his legs dangle a bit, facing the entrance as the crew shuffled in, Peter stood awkwardly next to the Captain and his stomach turned when Skapraun walked through the doorway. His spikey face was trained on the boy and Peter looked down at his feet, but felt a finger pull his head back up, looking straight ahead.

"Eyes up, Pete," Yondu said firmly and Peter nodded, watching the rest of the crew filter in and find seats.

When they'd all settled, the room quieted quickly, Yondu didn't call crew meetings at random, at least not in the time since Peter had gotten there. They all stared at their Captain, looking particularly relaxed, perched on his table, smirking at the lot.

"Well," Yondu began finally, "Seems we have an issue with hierarchy around here. Would someone care to tell me, who is in charge of this ship?" They all stared at the Captain and then around at each other, hopefully debating if the question was rhetorical and not the answer itself, "Well?" Yondu asked almost pleasantly.

"You are sir," Kraglin spoke up followed by a rumbling of agreement from the rest.

"That so?" Yondu inclined his blue head in a terrifying way, "Then does someone want to tell me why this boy is covered in bruises? I didn't give 'em to him, 'n if I didn't give 'em to him then somebody's steppin' outta there place. Isn't that right?" another grumble of agreement echoed after a moment of silence, "So, you understand my issue here. He's barely the size of a Flb'Dbi and one'a you decides t'beat on him without consulting me," Yondu paused and Peter saw him bite his lips again, before he continued, "Understand me, if any of you feels this boy is due a beatin' then you tell me, he's mine t'handle, 'n if I find out any'a you took it upon y'rselves, well we're gonna have problems," his eyes swept the crowd, settling on the spike-headed creature in the back with the same dangerous smirk as before and a quick whistle cut through the air followed instantly by an arrow flying from behind Yondu's swiftly opened jacket and Peter gasped as it sped across the room, soaring through Skapraun's eye, out the back of his spiked skull and returning quickly to its home on the Captain's belt, "Any questions?"

The crew shook their heads, muttering repeatedly that they did not have questions.

"Good," Yondu nodded, "Taserface, Halfnut, take care'a that," he ordered jerking his head towards the slumped body of Skapraun, "Kraglin, with me, the rest'a you, back t'work."

The crew responded instantly, chairs scrapped the floor as they hurried to leave the mess hall while Taserface and Halfnut hauled Skapraun's body from the room like a bag of trash. Kraglin was at the head table in a moment, pushing the opposite way through the crowd of huge bodies, awaiting orders from his commander.

"I need the blueprints f'r'the next ship we're hittin'," he told the First Mate, "I think I might have the perfect job f'r'this skinny boy."

"Sir?" Kraglin inclined his head, glancing at Peter.

"No body else in this crew can fit in'a vent," Yondu smirked and Kraglin nodded, slowly smiling with understanding.

"Yes, sir," Kraglin turned on his heel and left the mess hall.

"An' bring the boy some gizzard!" Yondu yelled.

"Yes, sir!" Kraglin's call echoed from the corridor.

"A'right, Petey," Yondu slid off the table, "let's get'cha in y'r'bed."

"Yondu," Peter began timidly, "Skapraun, you killed-"

"Don't worry 'bout that idiot," the Captain scoffed, leading the young boy from the room and towards his little cell, "I nearly killed him f'r'screwin' up the last job as bad as he did, obviously I should'a."

Peter felt a little better hearing the Ravager's execution had already been looming, but he couldn't get the image of the arrow piercing through Skapraun's skull out of his mind.

"Lay down," Yondu ordered after opening the door to Peter's little room and the boy obeyed immediately, almost happy to be back under his blankets on the thin cot, it was better than the cold vent, "Y'hurtin'?"

"Little bit," Peter shrugged, wincing at a sudden stab in his side.

"You eat what Kraglin brings ya," Yondu told him firmly, but his expression was gentle, "I'll come back t'check on y'soon, 'n you stay in this bed 'til I tell y'otherwise. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, he had no intention of moving, feeling his eyelids getting heavy despite the hunger still clawing at his gut, he was actually looking forward to the gizzard, if he closed his eyes he could pretend he was eating a hotdog, a very wet hotdog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for the feedback! I guess I'm going to continue this lol =) I have some ideas, but if anyone has suggestions for antics or situations they think would be fun to see Peter in PLEASE throw 'em at me!


	4. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's for all you who seconded the Nightterror idea, someone also mentioned bed wetting and it all seemed to go together well, hope you enjoy this one. More on the way, keep feedin' me ideas!

The first time it had happened, Peter managed to sneak through the empty corridors, dumping his sheets into the garbage shoot and stealing an extra set off a bed that was currently not in use, which he continued to think was strange as many of the crew literally slept in a pile on the floor together. The boy had flipped his urine stained mattress and wrapped the other side in the sheets before climbing back in, hoping no one would notice the smell. Thankfully, they didn't. But the next night, Peter woke from another terrible dream, drenched in his own sweat and felt his thighs and bottom soaked in warmth.

His sides ached from the healing bruises as he wrapped his scrawny arms around his chest, willing himself not to cry. The nightmares had seemed so real, but Skapraun was dead, he knew that, the arrow piercing the monster's spiked head still haunted his thoughts while he was awake. When he slept, however, Skapraun was alive and terrifying as ever, charging at him through the halls, threatening to eat him or throw him into deep space to freeze to death in a moment. Peter tried to remind himself the hostile Ravager was no longer a threat, but his subconscious seemed to be having a difficult time remembering that fact.

The young boy slid off the wet mattress, shucking the large shorts Yondu had given him, unsure who they'd belong to previously, and pulled his jeans on without underwear, as the only pair he had were balled in the bottom of his backpack from the accident he'd had the night before. Peter wasn't sure what he was going to do, but snuck out his door and found his feet moving in the direction of the Captain's quarters.

His stomach turned, anticipating Yondu's anger at being woken hours before he normally would and how embarrassing the reason for the disturbance was, but Peter couldn't think of anything else to do. The empty hallways seemed longer as he trudged towards the front of the ship, finally reaching the command room and the double doors to Yondu's private chambers.

With a deep breath, Peter knocked softly on the door and waited, but after a minute, he didn't hear even a rustle on the other side and tried again. Still nothing. The boy sighed and pulled the handle, surprised to find the door unlocked and pushed in quietly. A heavy snore reached his ears as soon as he walked into the dimly lit room, passed Yondu's desk and sitting room arrangement to the back corner where the massive bed sat, shrouded in dark curtains.

He pulled the curtains in the top corner until he could slip next to the bed, gulping at the huge blue man snoring loudly on his pillow, his mouth of pointed teeth hanging open slightly. Peter forced his hand to push gently on the Captain's shoulder, gasping when his wrist was trapped in a vice-like grip as Yondu's red eyes flew open.

"What're y'doin', boy?" he growled, sitting up, but not relenting his grasp on Peter.

"I'm sorry," Peter squeaked, trying to twist his arm away from the Captain with no luck, "I- I d-didn't kn-know what t-t'do."

"About what?" Yondu blinked a few times as his face softened, though he held his grip on Peter's wrist, "Why ain'cha in bed?"

"I h-had an a-acci-" Peter's shaking voice betrayed him as his throat tightened on the words and tears leaked down his cheeks.

Yondu released his arm, but Peter felt his large hands gently wrap around his ribs and pulled the boy onto the huge bed. The Captain settled him on the other side of him in the middle of the mattress and waited until Peter's breathing calmed before asking the boy another question.

"What happened, Peter?" Yondu's voice was soft and his hand rested on the boy's shoulder in a way that made him feel almost safe.

"I keep havin' nightmares," the boy muttered, his face reddening from embarrassment, he wasn't a little kid, little kids wet the bed, he hadn't done that in years.

"Okay," Yondu sounded unsure as he spoke, "What about?"

"Stuff," Peter shrugged, but at Yondu's slightly tightened grip and sigh of exasperation, he elaborated, "Skapraun tryin' t'kill me."

"Skapraun's dead," the Captain scoffed.

"I know," Peter whispered, "but, my dreams, he's not."

Yondu sighed and nodded almost understandingly, his eyes staring off in a memory before he looked back at the boy next to him, "The dreams'll stop, trust me. You ain't gotta worry 'bout anythin' hurtin' ya as long as I'm around, Peter."

His throat tightened again and Peter buried his face in Yondu's blue chest before the tears fell, feeling the Captain's arms tighten around him as he shook with sobs. It only took a moment to compose himself before Peter pushed away and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"So you came all the way up here 'cause y'had a nightmare?" Yondu asked with a smirk and Peter shook his head, "Well, what then?"

"My bed," Peter mumbled, his face heating under embarrassment again, "I had an, I sort'a, I didn't realize, I was sleepin' 'n had that dream 'n when I woke up, it was, I had-"

"Git t'the point, Pete," Yondu said firmly.

"I wet the bed," he forced the admission passed his lips quietly, unable to meet Yondu's eyes.

"Oh," the Captain looked surprised and nodded slowly, "Okay, well, uh, that's, uh, a'right we'll handle that in'a few hours. Y'ain't got any more liquid in ya, do ya?" Peter shook his head adamantly, "Better not. A'right, lay down, sleep."

"Here?" Peter asked with quiet surprise.

"I'm tired, kid," Yondu sighed, "Don't get used to it."

"Yes, sir," Peter stifled a smile and slipped his legs under the blanket, turning away from the Captain as he closed his eyes.

"No more nightmares," Yondu said quietly, stroking Peter's hair a few times as the boy's breathing slowed, finding comfort in the rare tenderness being shown to him.

Peter did not have another nightmare and, while he wasn't bothered by it, Yondu found it very difficult to get back to sleep as the little terran continued to edge closer until he was pressed against the Centaurian's side. The Captain watched him sleep, occasionally brushing the boy's shaggy hair off his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Love to hear your feedback!


	5. Terran Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SicFic is coming for sure! Probably another couple chapters but this one is a loose tooth prompt request combined with a quick outing to get Peter some "normal" clothes. Building some character development and ideas for later in here- trust me Peter pushing his limits is happening, it's already starting to, but it makes sense to me that this would be a gradual snarkiness, Yondu spanking him is coming soon, but any ideas you can give me I'll take!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE FEEDBACK ON THIS! I KINDA CAN'T BELIEVE THE RESPONSE I'VE GOTTEN, I STARTED THIS FOR FUN AND YOU GUYS ARE GREAT WITH ALL YOUR IDEAS! LOVE IT, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!

Peter couldn't remember what the dentist called them, but he called them fangs, at least to himself, he didn't exactly talk to Yondu or Kraglin, especially not the crew about his teeth. It had been a few nights before, he'd been laying in his bed, his new bed in his new room that he liked much better, and his tongue had flicked against it just right for the boy to notice. Yup, definitely loose.

The whole next day, he'd wiggled it whenever he'd had the opportunity. When his hands got covered in engine fluid while helping Kraglin, his tongue took over, incessantly flicking back and forth on the loosening tooth, until he could wash his hands and then gave the fang a good couple tugs before Kraglin yelled at him to get his fingers out of his mouth, muttering that he never had to say that before as he walked away.

When he'd finally been in the privacy of his own bedroom later, Peter pushed and pulled at his tooth until there was blood on his fingertips, even then he'd had a hard time stopping himself before falling asleep on the big bed.

Yondu had moved him to a large room near his quarters the night after the boy had come to his room crying, he hadn't explained his move, but Peter was not immune to the rumblings of him being the Captain's pet. No one would say it to him, he only knew because Kraglin had, though of course the First Mate said he'd told those Ravagers off for gossiping about their commander. Peter was waiting for one of them to say something to him, he planned on doing more than telling them off.

After realizing how terrified the boy was of the crew, Yondu took him for some target practice and taught him how to shoot a blaster. He'd given Peter an extraordinarily long lecture on never using a weapon against one of your own before letting him keep a little one that the Captain called 'taser strength', promising the boy it wouldn't kill anyone and he would find himself in very deep trouble if he used it when he shouldn't. Peter assured Yondu he wouldn't, thanking him over and over for the shiny little gun, and felt better walking the hallways and sleeping at night, knowing he had some sort of self-protection. He'd managed to beg the Captain twice more since then to take him shooting, as much as he made it seem like he didn't, Peter was pretty sure Yondu enjoyed it, he even smiled sometimes.

"Rise 'n shine, Petey," Yondu called as he opened the door to Peter's room, "We're nearin' Xandar, got a lot t'git done t'day, let's go."

Peter didn't want to get a lot done today, he really liked his new bed, but he'd never been to another planet besides Earth, Terra as everyone else called it, and the idea of getting his feet on new ground was exciting enough to swing them off the mattress. Sliding onto his toes on the floor first, his new bed was so high he had to pull himself up to get in, but it was perfect height for him to stare out his new window at the enthralling, ever-changing scene. His window wasn't anywhere near as large as Yondu's, more like the kind of window a boat or an airplane would have, though his view was admittedly way cooler than either of the others could offer.

The boy's tongue didn't rest on the tooth while he dressed in the same clothes he'd worn every day for what had to be months at this point. He'd had the occasional opportunity to wash them and had been thrown a few extra items, all of which were far too large, but, as his socks stuck out seemingly worse than even the day before, Peter sighed.

"Y'ready, boy?" Yondu returned to the room while Peter was slipping his sneakers on.

"My pants 'r too small," Peter said, it wasn't the first time he'd told the Captain recently.

"That's what y'keep sayin'," Yondu rolled his eyes, "let's go, I gotta get t'the command room."

Peter sighed again and followed the Captain the short distance up the hall to the long control console and watched Yondu flip his long leather jacket before taking his seat in the main driver position. He loved to watch Yondu fly the Eclector. Often, another crew member simply kept if from crashing into anything on course or it was on autopilot, but when the Captain took control Peter felt excitement surge through him with anticipation for the wild ride.

"Buckled in Pete?" Yondu barked at the boy still watching as he began his descent on the approaching planet and Peter literally jumped into the seat behind him, pulling the straps over himself with fumbling fingers.

As soon as his belts latched, the Electron lurched and Peter couldn't hold back a happy giggle at the drop in his stomach as he watched Yondu expertly maneuver passed other crafts and burst through the atmosphere of Xandar. It was better than any roller coaster and Peter's smile didn't fade until well after Yondu gently landed the ship in what the boy could only call a parking lot, a vast parking lot, reaching further than he could see in a few directions and riddled with other spacecrafts of various size and shape. Though he was definitely getting off one of the largest, following the Captain and Kraglin towards the buildings ahead, his tongue still flicking back and forth on the loosening tooth.

Some of the crew fell in behind Peter, but others went a different direction and a few didn't bother getting off the ship, they'd seen Xandar enough. Peter had not and his neck started hurting with as much craning as he did in the first few minutes before they even reached the populated part of the city. It reminded him in many ways of Earth, though the creatures were certainly not something that would be found in Colorado, or anywhere near. Drones and small crafts flew overhead in perfect lines, zooming in sync with each other to their destinations, buildings taller than he'd ever seen stretched to the sky. The sky looked like Earth, but nothing else did, Peter wiggled his tooth hard with his fingers for a moment, pulling his hand away quickly when Kraglin almost saw him.

"C'mon, Peter," the First Mate jerked his head and they boy hurried after him, staying close to Yondu as they walked through the crowd.

"I've already talked to Aparski," Yondu told Kraglin, "He just needs t'fit the boy. Y'remember the way?"

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded, grabbing a hold of Peter's shoulder and steering the boy down a smaller, more crowded alley.

"Where are we going?" Peter asked.

"Don'worry about it," Kraglin growled, but his expression softened when he glanced at the pouty eight-year-old, "gettin' y'somemore clothes, normal stuff."

Peter was wearing normal stuff, though he supposed his jeans and flannel did stick out much more than the futuristic outfits surrounding him. He hoped he'd at least get a cool red jacket like the rest of the crew.

Kraglin led him to a small, dingy shop at the end of the street, Peter's nose tingled from the dust as they entered. There were all different sorts of fabric and strange materials laying in heaps, piled nearly to the ceiling in a few corners. A large mirror was leaned against one wall and a thin, orange man-like being laid sleeping with its fiery head resting on the short platform in front of it, Peter stared at the creature whose hands were folded under its head, as well as wrapped around its middle, twice.

"Aparski!" Kraglin barked and the orange creature started awake with a pig-like snort.

"Yes? Yes? Oh!" he blinked his blindingly blue eyes at them as he scurried to his feet, of which there were only two, "Kraglin! Pleasure to see you, so sorry, was just taking a break. Is Yondu coming?"

"No," Kraglin said simply and Aparski visibly sighed with relief before his large, bright eyes settled on Peter.

"Is this the Terran?" he asked with more excitement than Peter was comfortable with and the boy leaned into Kraglin a bit, pushing at his tooth hard with his tongue.

"Aye," Kraglin nodded, "Said you just need t'fit him, like t'get this done quick if we can."

"Of course," the six-armed creature nodded, extending all his left arms to the platform in invitation for Peter to step up, which he only did after Kraglin pushed him a little.

He'd never been fitted for clothes before, it had always been whatever was already made and available at the store, but he followed the directions Aparski gave him to lift his arms and widen his stance a bit. All three pairs of arms worked a different colored tape measurer, Peter was sure every inch of him had been sized by the time the tailor stopped, the measuring tapes rolling themselves up before he shoved them in his pockets.

"Yondu gave me an idea of how small he is," Aparski called, walking into the back room, Peter scowled, he was not that small, "I've already started a few of these," the orange man returned, every arm full of articles of clothing, "just need to make a few adjustments."

A while later, Peter and Kraglin left the shop, the boy trying to stifle a smile as he continued to look at the shoulders of his new red jacket, the First Mate grumbled for the boy to hurry as they walked through the crowd with a stack of packages. No one was staring at him anymore, the slick black pants, cool red jacket and new boots that gave him at least another inch of height, helped him fit in on the Xandar surface, Peter felt better not having so much attention from strangers, very strange strangers.

His tooth clicked as he pushed it back and forth, there was a lot more play and Peter's tongue was determined to eject the loose fang. He heard Yondu's booming voice before he saw the blue man, leaning on a counter at what appeared to be an outdoor, back-alley pawn shop. The Captain was smirking and nodding as the man across from him spoke, but Peter only caught a few words as he and the First Mate approached.

"-I'm tellin' y'they do," the broker sounded sure of whatever he was saying, "it's a culture that feeds on structure and discipline, Cap. Is this the Terran?"

Peter wished everyone would stop calling him that, wiggling his tooth more with anxiety from the attention.

"Yeah," Yondu nodded, eyeing the young man, "lookin' good, Petey."

"Thanks," he mumbled, willing them to stop staring at him and locking his gaze on the package in his arms, pushing hard on the loose fang with his bottom teeth.

"You weren't kiddin' when you said he's a boy," the broker chuckled, "How old is he?"

"Eight terran years," Yondu told him.

"Yeah, they're a slow growin' species," the broker smirked and Peter scowled at him, making the man scoff lightly, "Structure and discipline, Yondu, they crave it."

The Captain nodded curtly in response and Peter felt heat creep to his ears, he didn't like being the focus of this conversation having only heard part of it, but he did not appreciate that part. Yondu took a stack of units from the broker, putting them in the inside pocket of his jacket, shook the man's hand and jerked his head for Kraglin and Peter to follow him. As they walked away, the boy shot one more glare at the broker, who shook his head and winked at Peter.

Yondu started heading towards the Eclector, telling them he had finished his errands, and shoving a large stack of units into the First Mate's already full hands with orders to disperse it amongst the crew. Kraglin shifted his eyes nervously and Yondu sighed, taking the parcels from his underling.

"Well, let's take a look at'cha, boy," Yondu smiled, tossing the packages from Peter's hands into the open hatch of the spacecraft.

Peter spun on the heel of his new boot, smiling when he earned a soft laugh from the Captain, and pulled proudly at his new jacket, an exact match to the rest of the crew's.

"Y'still got y'r'blaster?" Yondu asked and Peter nodded, pulling the little gun from his pocket, "Here," Yondu reached inside his jacket and pulled out a very small, leather holster, "It's built f'r'a Grund, but I figured it'd work."

Peter's smile widened to elation as he took the gift, "Thank you, Yondu."

"Yeah," the Captain shifted his eyes uncomfortably, "don't mention it, kid. Go git'cher crap put away, the crew'll be back soon 'n we're gettin' outta here."

"Yes, sir," Peter clicked the belt around his hips and slid the mini blaster into the holster, a perfect fit, before pulling himself up the ladder into the Eclector.

He managed to get all the packages to his room in one trip, though halfway down the hall one of them fell off the stack and he just kicked it gently with his foot the rest of the way.

His new room had a bunch of drawers, most of which were empty, just one held the boy's priceless possessions he'd had in his backpack when Yondu had come for him. Even if most of his pants and shirts now were identical, Peter was still glad to have them and took his time putting the folded articles in the metal drawers. Then he practiced quick drawing his little blaster over and over until he could pull it smoothly into attack position in the blink of an eye, unaware of his tongue's constant movement at this point. He did, however, notice the small cracking sound in his mouth and the relief he felt in his gums, holstering the blaster and spitting the little tooth into his hand.

"Peter!" Kraglin called from the hallway before the boy's bedroom door lurched open, "We're takin' off y'gotta get y'strapped-" Kraglin's eyes widened at Peter's outstretched palm, showing the First Mate his bloody tooth with a gapped smile, "What happened?!" Kraglin pulled the door shut with a quick glance to the hallway, "Who did this?!"

Peter closed his fist on the tooth, taking a few steps back from the terrified man before he stammered through his words, "I did, it's just a tooth, it fell out."

"You what?!" Kraglin hissed, putting his hands on his head, "This is gonna be on me, awe kid, crap, crap," he paced the short distance in front of the door and Peter wished he could slip passed the frantic First Mate, but just watched as Kraglin freaked out, "Okay, put it back, huh? Let's try that, Yondu won't even notice."

"I can't," Peter told him, shaking his head.

"Try boy!" Kraglin barked, reaching for Peter's closed hand, "Here let me."

"No, Kraglin!" Peter turned away, hiding his fist in his bent over stomach as the man tried to pry the tooth from his fingers.

"Peter, c'mon!" Kraglin urged frantically.

"What's goin' on in here?" Yondu asked from the doorway, in their struggle, neither had heard him open it.

"Captain," Kraglin hung his head, "I didn't do it, he said he did, I tried to put it back, but he won't let me."

"It's not s'posed t'go back!" Peter yelled, biting his lips together at the loud snap of Yondu's fingers.

"What're we talkin' about?" The Captain sounded exasperated in his question and Peter unfurled his fist, showing Yondu the bloody canine.

Kraglin looked like he was expecting the Captain to explode and visibly relaxed when Yondu began chuckling, growing into a rather boisterous laugh as he picked the tiny tooth from Peter's palm, examining it before returning it to its owner.

"Let's see," he nodded at the young boy and Peter opened his mouth, reclining his head to show Yondu and Kraglin the hole where his tooth had been, "See that little white spot? There's another tooth comin' in."

"Huh," Kraglin smirked as Peter closed his mouth, returning his head to a normal position, "So he's not broken?"

"Nope," Yondu patted Peter's head, "just a growin' boy."

"Told you," Peter muttered at Kraglin.

"A'right, c'mon, both'a ya," Yondu jerked his head towards the control room, "I wanna get off this yuppie planet."

Peter shoved his tooth in the pocket of his new pants and followed the Captain, plopping in his seat behind Yondu and buckling the straps over his chest. His tongue had found new pleasure in bothering the gap between his teeth and Peter couldn't help as his mind wandered to the tooth fairy. He'd already pretty much figured out that no such thing existed, though he was more than satisfied with a cool red jacket, slick space boots, a new wardrobe and a perfect sized holster for his blaster instead of a quarter under his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've gotten this far and haven't clicked the Kudo button, I gotta ask- why not? ;-)


	6. Toughen up, kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have I told y'all recently that I love you? Well I do, thank you for the ideas! LOTS of requests for a sickfic and it's in the wings I promise! BUT I started this planning on taking it somewhere and I'd hate to make you wake any longer for Peter's overly confident moment of brattiness followed swiftly by the Captain putting his foot down, on a chair... Hope you enjoy.
> 
> WARNING: CHAPTER CONTAINS SPANKING OF A MINOR

Buckling his holster belt around his hips had become a habitual routine in Peter's morning, never going anywhere without the little blaster at his side, he'd even threatened a few crew members with it when he heard them mumble under their breath as he passed. Yes, the boy was finding a bit more confidence on the ship, strutting around in his red, leather jacket with the tiny gun strapped to his hip.

"Peter," Kraglin called him after breakfast one day.

"What?" Peter asked.

"I got the main control replacement f'r'the Albacore-"

"The Milano," Peter corrected the First Mate.

"Sure," Kraglin shrugged, "I need y'r'help gettin' behind the console."

"Okay," he agreed, following Kraglin from the mess hall.

"Kraglin," one of the crew, Obio, laughed darkly, "you could train a smar t'help y'out 'n get less attitude."

"You want attitude you crosseyed, asshole?" Peter snarled, taking a step towards the man, his hand automatically resting on the blaster handle.

"A'right, Pete," Kraglin pulled the young boy by the shoulder, "c'mon, he's just messin' around."

Peter offered Obio what was a very rude hand gesture on Earth and the Ravager blew him a kiss, enraging the boy further, but Kraglin's firm hold on his shoulder kept him from advancing again, grudgingly allowing the First Mate to lead him towards the hanger.

"Peter, y'can't let'em get to y'like that," Kraglin scolded gently as they walked.

"They need t'shut up," Peter wrenched his shoulder from the First Mate, but continued moving in step with him.

"E'rybody busts on each other," Kraglin assured him, "we're up here all the time t'gether, it's just what we do, kid."

Peter didn't respond, just continued scowling as they made their way to the nearly finished Milano.

The work was complicated, Peter had to pay really close attention and listen as Kraglin shouted instructions from below as the First Mate hoisted the boy into the underbelly of the craft on his shoulders. By the time they were finished, a very sweaty Peter had nearly forgotten the earlier encounter with Obio.

"A'right," Kraglin slammed the metal cover over the engine, "let's kick her on 'n see if we got it."

"Can I do it?" Peter asked excitedly.

"Sure, kid," Kraglin almost smiled, "press the button twice, hold the second push a few seconds."

Peter hurried into the Milano and sat in the driver's seat, ready to start his ship for the first time, if he got to name it he was sure it was only a matter of time before he could convince Yondu to give it to him. He reached his arm towards the large button on the console ahead, scooting closer to the edge of the seat when his fingers were way out of reach, expelling a relenting sigh when no amount of straining would get his hand close enough while sitting in the chair. He looked at his boots and, with a smirk, Peter jammed the button with his toes, pushing it again and holding the button down how Kraglin had told him. The boy laughed out loud with excitement when the spacecraft rumbled to life and he felt the turbines engage, raising the ship a little off the lift it had been resting on.

"A'right, Pete!" he heard Kraglin yell up the open hatch, "Kill it!"

"Hold on," Peter called, "This is so cool!"

"Peter, now!" the First Mate ordered, "Don't make me come in there 'n do it!"

The boy rolled his eyes, but kicked the button once more and the ship jerked as it settled a little roughly back on its stand. He dawdled on his way back to the hatch, preferring to stay in the little ship, slowly taking the steps down the ladder and jumping onto the ground.

"Nice work," Kraglin said curtly, "Better start listenin' t'me though, boy."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter muttered, "Are we done?"

"It's lunch time," Kraglin said, walking out of the hanger without waiting to see if the boy was following him, which of course he was.

Peter took his lunch from the cook without a word, he'd stopped thanking the bulbous creature after his second meal on the Eclector and was sure the alien didn't speak English, if he spoke anything. He was barely two forced bites into the slop when the Captain caught his eye, coaxing the boy to his table with a blue finger. Peter sighed and trudged up to Yondu, not even bothering to hide the exasperation on his face.

"Heard that ship's runnin'," the Captain said, earning a complete change in the boy's expression.

"Yeah," Peter smiled proudly, "Can we try it out later?"

"Kraglin's gonna take it f'r'a test run," Yondu told him and Peter pouted, "Sure he wouldn't mind if y'tagged along," the Captain's relent earned a small smile from the boy, "Eat'cher lunch."

Peter did, though he still despised the food, but had learned to just eat it quickly, avoiding as much of the taste as possible. While he ate his meal, Obio kept throwing him funny looks, winking at the boy and making kissing faces in the air, Peter tried to ignore him, but felt his ears burning with anger. He tossed the last of his lunch in the trash on his way out of the mess hall, but Obio's boisterous laugh stopped him in the doorway, turning with angry eyes on the Ravager.

"What?" Obio scoffed, "Ain't nobody talkin' t'you."

"Better not be talkin' about me either," Peter said threateningly.

"But, sweetie," Obio smiled meanly, "y'r'my favorite topic."

"Screw you!" Peter yelled, pulling his blaster on the long-haired man sitting at the table.

"Do it," Obio narrowed his crossed eyes and pounded his chest.

Peter pulled the trigger without a thought, smirking as the Ravager tensed, falling from his chair to the floor in a seizure like fit. It was only a moment before Obio stilled, breathing heavily as he regained control of his limbs, but the room was silent, staring first at man on the floor, then the boy with the blaster and, finally, the Captain at his single table in the front of the room.

Though Yondu wasn't sitting long, pushing his chair back with such force it crashed to the ground as he rounded the table, taking long, hurried strides towards Peter. The boy's stomach dropped as the Captain approached with a snarl, shouting as he ripped the tiny blaster from Peter's shaking hand and slammed it on the nearest table.

"Boy! What're you doin'?! You attack a man while he's sittin' eatin' lunch?!" Yondu's face was very close to Peter's, holding the boy still with a firm grip on his upper arm.

"He was sayin'-" Peter stammered.

"I don'care what he was sayin'!" Yondu barked, "I told you, you were not t'use this unless you were gettin' hurt! And I wasn't talkin' 'bout y'r'feelin's boy!" With the end of that statement, the Captain pulled the nearest chair towards himself, the skinny, horned face Ravager occupying it vacated immediately.

Peter's eyes widened as he felt Yondu's grip tighten, this was the beginning of a dance he was too familiar with on Earth, but he couldn't pull out of the Captain's firm grasp. Yondu put a foot on the chair and, in one quick movement, pulled the already struggling boy over his knee, holding him easily in place.

"No!" Peter cried, but the first swat landed anyway.

He kicked and squirmed, but the Centaurian was far too strong and, with his leg elevated, Peter's feet didn't even come close to the floor, draped in perfect position for the assault his helpless posterior was receiving. Yondu's large blue hand rained down one smack after another to the small behind propped over his knee and the boy howled, pleading with the Captain to stop.

"Yondu! Pleease NOOO!" Peter wailed, willing himself not to cry, though the laughter of the surrounding crowd was not helping.

The Ravagers clapped and cheered their Captain on, which Peter found horrifying, though it was hard to focus on his embarrassment as the pain in his backside increased. The sharp smacks migrated to the bottom of his cheeks and suddenly it was impossible to hold his tears in any longer.

"Pleeeaaase!" the boy begged, "Si-r, I'm-m s-sor-ry," and finally broke into apologetic sobs.

He stopped kicking and just laid limply over Yondu's knee, whimpering with every swat, hardly noticing the assault slow and finally stop. The room was quiet. Peter wasn't sure when it had gone quiet, but the only sound was his sniffling as the Captain righted him on his feet.

"We are Ravagers, boy," Yondu said firmly, pulling Peter's chin up to meet his red eyes with the boy's teary gaze, "Y'don't shoot a member'a y'r'own crew f'r'talkin' crap, y'toughen up 'n learn t'give it back," he picked the tiny blaster off the table, "If I see, 'r hear, that you used this again when y'weren't s'posed to, what happened just now is gonna be a walk in the park, 'n then y'ain't gettin' it back. Y'hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, wiping his face with the back of his hand and taking the blaster Yondu offered him, quickly holstering it and silently vowing never to use it again, ever.

"Now, git," Yondu jerked his head towards the doorway and Peter took a few backwards steps before he turned and hurried down the hallway, using one hand to wipe his eyes and the other to rub his behind.

Yondu hadn't told him where to go, but he'd always been sent to his room after a spanking in the past and found his feet moving that direction. His bottom throbbed, Yondu had certainly been trying to make a point, both to Peter and the crew. The young boy climbed carefully onto his bed, laying face first on his pillow and letting the last few sobs he'd be harboring release into the muffled privacy of his bedroom.

"Hey, Peter," someone was shaking him awake and Peter blinked his eyes open on Kraglin's pointy face, "I'm ready f'r'that test run. Y'comin'?"

Peter smiled, awake instantly and rolled over to sit up, inhaling sharply as soon as he did and averting his eyes from the First Mate in humiliation. Kraglin smirked almost sadly at him, but it turned into a forced smile as he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"I don't think I can," Peter mumbled with defeat.

"I wouldn't be askin' ya if y'couldn't," Kraglin informed him.

Peter's smile returned a little, he understood he'd overreacted on Obio and found himself strangely glad he'd gotten away from the altercation with only a sore backside, Yondu had let him retain his blaster and hadn't taken away testing the Milano with Kraglin. Considering the Captain had occasionally threatened to let his men eat the boy, Peter felt he'd gotten off pretty easy. Though he still had to face the crew.

Taking a deep breath, he slid off his bed on his stomach and followed Kraglin out the door. It wasn't until they turned a corner in the corridor that they saw any Ravagers, but Peter's eyes met the floor when they did. Yondu's words to keep his head up echoed through the boy's mind and he forced his chin to rise, walking proudly, despite the humiliation churning in his gut.

One of the Ravagers, Brahl, a rather terrifying Achernonian, gave Peter a distinct nod as they passed. Peter was sure he'd only thought Brahl was looking at him, however, he must have been nodding at the First Mate. As they passed another group, three crew members who enjoyed tormenting Peter, Oblio included, the boy's stomach turned nauseatingly, but none of them even looked at him, nor did Peter hear any whispering as he and Kraglin walked away.

By no means did Peter want any of them to remind him of what had happened in the mess hall at lunch, but he was more than surprised that they hadn't. Were they just waiting to torture him together? Why had Brahl nodded at him? The only time Brahl had ever even looked at him before was when Peter had been hopping along only the dark tiles in one of the hallways, the Achernonian evidently hadn't understood the game and just stared at the little Terran in mild disgust. But he'd definitely nodded at him, because when he and Kraglin entered the hanger and saw Gef fighting with a wrench on a detached turbine, the goggled-eyed man looked straight at Peter, his magnified eyes the size of dinner plates.

"How y'doin', Pete?" he asked gruffly.

"M'okay," Peter shrugged, though his bottom still smarted a lot.

"Nice job on that, uh, wha'cha callin' her?" Gef jerked his scruffy head at the small blue and orange ship.

"The Milano," the boy said proudly.

"Milano it is," Gef nodded, "Hey, you just don't worry 'bout those assholes, a'right?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded, "a'right."

"Boys have a good flight," he said mostly to Kraglin, who simply nodded and pushed Peter along towards the newly fixed and renamed spacecraft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's nice that the crew seemed to have eased up on Peter. Anyone who was surprised Yondu gave him back the blaster and let him go on the test flight, I'm in the same boat, pretty shocked when that happened, BUT I'm starting to understand why adult Peter is a snarky asshole (but not a complete dick) the Captain spoiled the crap out of him ;)
> 
> I totally understand not always wanting to leave a comment, but kudos really make my day =)


	7. Chicken and Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun exercise for me, I've never read or written a sickfic before, but there was a lot of requests for it so here it is =) Couple things before you read, those of you who've read my Supernatural story know I'm a stickler for accuracy, like freakishly, I have a problem, that being said I have to tell you how important it was to me to ensure the realism of Campbell's Chicken and Stars soup being available on Earth in 1988/89- this information could not be found with mere google searches, but thankfully the Campbell's website has a "chat now" option- it came out in 1964 if anyone was curious.
> 
> Peter essentially has the flu here, thank you for all the suggestions, and the only reason I didn't go with something like the chickenpox that was suggested by a couple was because he's about 8/9 now and that puts him a little out of the average age to contract it, plus I was afraid it would kill all the Ravagers. I really hope you like what I've come up with, this was not easy, but that's because its not something I would normally find myself writing and I love that, so keep up the prompts and I'll keep trying to do them justice =)
> 
> Thank you for the reviews and I hope to hear what you think of this one!

It was just the sniffles, so Peter didn't think much of the runny nose and tickle in his throat when he woke one morning. He did feel more tired than usual and hardly ate any of his breakfast or lunch, not that that was entirely unusual for the little Terran who still hated the meal options, but when Peter begged off helping Kraglin with an intermittent thruster misfire, the First Mate was sure something was wrong.

"Y'okay, Pete?" he asked, "Y'look kinda sweaty. Y'been runnin' around?"

Peter shook his head, "M'okay, just tired."

"Well, go lay down then," Kraglin scoffed.

"Okay," the boy mumbled, barely nodding as he trudged through the corridor to his bedroom, curling under his blankets fully dressed and still shivered from the cold.

It was hard for him to find sleep, his head hurt, along with the rest of him, and it took a while for his closed eyes to find peace in the darkness. Peter's dreams were odd when he did sleep, riddled with strange scenarios, like his Grandfather walking into his bedroom on the Eclector with a bowl of Campbell's chicken noodle soup, humming a Charlie William's song. Peter would've been thrilled to see him if he didn't feel like moving would cause the contents of his gut to propel upwards, but his Grandfather's visit was interrupted by the First Mate being chastised by the Captain, loudly.

"How're y'not gonna tell me about this?!"

"Capt'n I didn't know," Kraglin pled, "He just said he was tired, I told 'im t'lay down. Ain't nothin' gonna happen t'him is it?"

"I damn well don'know!" Yondu barked, "Git a logr f'r'im, 'n grab the bjorn fur from my bunk, now!"

Peter's eyes fluttered open at the large blue man as he sat on the edge of the boy's bed, unsure if he was awake, asleep or dead. Yondu's red eyes brightened as they met Peter's and he gave the boy a small smile.

"How y'doin', son?" the Captain's gruff voice was soft as he ran a blue hand over Peter's sweaty forehead.

"I don'feel good," he mumbled, curling his legs up a little until they touched the Centaurian.

"Y'don'look good," Yondu agreed with a nervous smirk, "Y'r'warmer than an overworked generator."

"M-m-m cold," Peter shivered.

"I got more blankets on the way," Yondu assured him, "Think you could drink somethin'?"

"Uh-uh," Peter shook his head slightly, but stopped because it felt like his brain was rolling around in his skull.

"What's gonna help?" the Captain asked.

"Sleep," the boy whispered and, under his blanket, he curled his arm around the blue hand resting next to him, "Stay."

With his hand trapped in the boy's embrace, Yondu sighed, scooting higher up on the bed, careful not to adjust his arm. Awkwardly reaching across himself, Yondu's other hand stroked the boy's damp hair, pushing the sticking bits from Peter's rosy skin, grimacing with concern when a ragged cough broke passed the boy's chapped lips.

Peter kept his eyes closed, unsure if he'd found sleep again, but enjoying the gentle strokes on his head as he listened to the First Mate return. He whimpered when the arm he'd latched onto twisted itself out of his grip slowly.

"I'm right here, Petey," Yondu put a hand on the boy's head, "Got'cha another blanket," Peter sighed when the heavy fur layered on him, he was almost warm, "Can y'try 'n drink some'a this f'r'me?"

The boy didn't even look at what he was being offered before shaking his head a little.

"C'mon, Pete," Yondu urged, "might help."

"I want soup," Peter whined.

"Okay," Yondu agreed, "We can get'cha some soup."

"Chicken noodle," the boy grumbled.

"What's that?" Yondu leaned down, rubbing Peter's shoulder over the blankets.

"Chicken, noodle, soup," Peter said, each word made him more exhausted.

"That'll help?" Yondu asked and the boy nodded in his pillow, "Kraglin, call Kona, she deals with things from Terra sometimes."

"Capt'n," Kraglin said, "I'll just've Matbua make him some soup-"

"That ain't what I said!" Yondu growled.

"Yes, sir," the First Mate muttered.

Peter felt Yondu's weight sink the edge of his mattress again, but couldn't lift his eyelids, his head hurt worse when he tried to focus on anything and was sure he on the verge of vomiting. He still wanted the soup though, he didn't really want to eat it, but it had always made him feel better when he was sick and his Grandfather would bring him a hot bowl with tiny noodle stars swimming around the chunks of chicken and vegetables. Thinking of the pieces of food drowning in broth made Peter's stomach turn and he forced himself into somewhat of a sitting position, squinting his eyes to the corner of the room and waving his hand frantically at the trash bin.

Yondu thankfully understood and grabbed the wastebasket just in time for the little boy to hurl the contents of this stomach into the can, tears filling his eyes as his throat burned. Peter breathed heavily as the retching stopped, finding comfort in the hand rubbing gently up and down his back, though his head ached much worse than before. He wiped his eyes and mouth, slowly laying his sweaty head back on the damp pillow, shivering despite the layers of blankets on top of him.

"Hey, Pete," Yondu's voice was subdued, "Y'wanna git some comfier clothes on?"

He did, his Ravager uniform was sticking uncomfortably and twisted tightly in a few places, but he did not want to move, unsure if he could even stand on his own at the moment.

"C'mon, boy," the Captain urged, pulling gently at the blankets and Peter nodded, sliding his legs from the warm nest they'd created, shivering from the sudden drop in temperature.

He should've thought it was strange, Yondu pulling off his boots and jacket, but Peter didn't have many thoughts at all in that moment besides wanting to shed the constricting outfit and crawl back under the warm covers. Peter managed to slide off the bed, his bare feet shocked at the cold floor and he wrapped his arms around himself as his teeth chattered. Yondu grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the drawers and the boy forced his hands to shuck his pants, relieved as the tight material released his skin, but felt goosebumps erupt down his legs with icy pain.

Everything ached, his shirt may have well been made from lead for as hard as it was for Peter to lift, unable to bring his shoulders into full motion and nearly crying from the pain and frustration. His shirt came off, however, carefully pulled over his head and Yondu gave him a small smile, lifting the new shirt in his hands. Peter was beyond pride at the moment and pathetically raised his skinny arms at the Captain, who slipped the fresh shirt in place before handing the boy his shorts. It took Peter a few moments to stumble into them, Yondu's hand found one of his shoulders when he'd wobbled a bit, but managed to stay upright, pulling the drawstring with sore fingers.

"Okay, son," Yondu lifted the blankets and flipped Peter's pillow, all of which was more than enough invitation for Peter to try crawling onto the mattress, getting a little assistance from the Captain with a hand on his bottom pushing him gently onto the tall bed.

The cool pillow and warm blankets encouraged sleep immediately and Peter's eyes were relieved to shut on the dim room, alleviating very little of the throbbing in his head. Bizarre dreams began flooding his feverish mind, Skapraun knocking on his little window, begging Peter to let him in the Eclector, but David Hasselhoff roundhouse kicked him to the side of his spiked head before waving at the boy and zooming away into the stars, noodle stars, peppered with a few distant planets resembling peas and chunks of chicken. Peter soared passed them in the darkness, he had to only be a little ways behind David. The noodle stars were getting closer, though, enclosing him as the sky around him turned to broth, engulfing the boy with no way up or down. Drowning in the soup he'd requested, but didn't even want to eat. Peter kicked and flailed, fighting for air, for a way out of the nightmare. He was sure his lungs couldn't stand another moment without oxygen just as a flash of blue brought a strike of sharp pain across his face and Peter gasped for breath, flickering his eyes open in the soft light of his bedroom.

"Y'a'right, boy?" Yondu stood over him panting, "M'sorry if I hurt'cha, y'weren't breathin'. Y'okay, Petey?"

"I think so," Peter's voice broke, his throat was very dry, "M'thirsty."

"Here," Yondu said hurriedly, picking the glass off the nightstand next to Peter and holding it out to the boy, "C'mon sit up a little," his other hand found the boy's sweat drenched back, gently pulling him to a reclined sitting position as Peter sipped the cool liquid.

"Water?" the boy looked at the Captain with shock and deep appreciation.

"Straight from Fifi. Fiki?" Yondu looked questioningly at Peter, who shrugged with an expression more lost than the Captain's, "I f'rget what Kona called it, but it's Terran water. We ain't got a lot'a it, but she said it'd help."

"Kona?" Peter asked, sipping the water a little greedily.

"She's a, well not really a friend," Yondu sat on the edge of Peter's bed once the boy leaned against his headboard, "just someone I've worked some jobs with in the past, she specializes in procuring rare items, hell'uv'a theif. She's a Sirian 'n them folks look just like Terrans, so she makes runs there 'n some of the closed societies like it, grabbin' stuff no body up in these parts ever sees. Makes a good livin' off the novelty items."

"Thank you," Peter smiled a little, sipping the water again.

"Think y'could eat?" Yondu furrowed his brow, "Y'been sleepin' a while," Peter grimaced at him, he was a bit hungry, but the thought of choking down oblini stew made him nauseous again, Yondu smirked, "Got a few a these from her too," and held up a small can of Campbell's Chicken and Stars soup, scoffing lightly at it, "Guess those Terran folks have a real hankerin' f'r'what's up here, just ain't the brightest bunch."

Peter couldn't take his eyes off the can as tears filled them, maybe it was the slight fever remaining or the near death feeling he'd just experienced, but the boy had the urge to throw his arms around the Centaurian, only refraining because he was still very tired and couldn't find the strength to push out of his warm cocoon. The Captain seemed to see the emotions overcoming the child and shook his head.

"Don't be gettin' all sappy, boy," Yondu said, "We got a big job comin' up 'n I need y'healthy 'r y'ain't no use havin'. Y'say this'll help?" he gestured the can in his hand and Peter nodded, "Y'eat it cold 'r hot?"

"Hot," the boy said.

"Y'gonna eat it?" Yondu's tone had a small growl in it.

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, noticing his head didn't ache as much as before.

"A'right," Yondu stood to his full height, "I'll be back."

"Thank you," Peter squeaked as the Captain left his room, stopping in the doorway at the small voice.

"Just wan'cha better, son," Yondu said quietly and shut the door on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't wait to hear what you think! And I cannot get that second note to go away, I'm sorry, I deleted it, it's still there =( Still loving your kudos, sorry for the redundant, mild threat


	8. He's Just a Kid!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt request: The first time Peter steals a ship, which surprise surprise, ends with the Captain warming his backside... So glad so many of you are enjoying these snips =) I just watched the second Guardians movie (like three times) So I made Peter 10 here, I'm following him age by age btw so prompts for teen Peter are in the works, in the movie Peter says he's been flying the Milano since he was 10 years old and I felt like that wouldn't be because Yondu allowed it lol
> 
> Thank you for the feedback PLEASE keep it coming!
> 
> WARNING: CHAPTER CONTAINS SPANKING OF A MINOR

Yondu was a jerk. A big, mean, blue jerk. Peter kicked a mus as it scurried across his path in the corridor, just missing the scaly rodent and he continued stomping towards his room. At least that's where he'd been told to go, but Yondu was just being a jerk. Peter was more than capable of flying the Milano, he'd gotten much taller in the last few months and, if he sat on the edge of the seat, had no problem reaching all the controls. There was no reason he shouldn't be the lead pilot on his ship for the job, it was an easy job! Yondu kept saying how simple it would be, that the Arcturans didn't have a lot in ways of defense or security, as long as they were stealthy, and Peter was always stealthy, it was going to be an in and out job. But the Captain had absolutely refused the idea of Peter taking lead, laughing at the idea, which had angered the boy greatly, he was at least ten now, not exactly sure when his birthday had hit, but knew it was close if it hadn't passed already. Double digits was a big deal, he wasn't a little kid, but that didn't stop everyone from treating him like he was anyway, especially Yondu, who insisted Kraglin went with Peter on every mission if the Captain didn't go himself.

He'd gone on at least a dozen jobs, every, single one successful, earning him a clap on the back and a few units from the proud commander, but he still refused to let Peter go on a solo mission, or even pilot his precious Milano. Though when it was just him and Kraglin on the little ship, the First Mate tended to take long bathroom breaks, requesting Peter take the wheel instead of setting it on locked autopilot. They never told the Captain, Peter had promised Kraglin he wouldn't, the kid wasn't stupid. He wasn't exactly nice to the boy, but Peter was pretty sure Kraglin liked him, at least he hoped he did, besides Yondu, the First Mate was the only one he looked up to and sort of admired.

Even Kraglin had said Peter was capable of running the Milano to Arcturan IV with his assistance if needed, but a threatening scowl from the Captain had ceased his words into mumbling nonsense as they trailed away, offering Peter a sideways smirk and small shrug.

"It's not fair!" Peter had stomped his foot and yelled at Yondu, several Ravagers in the immediate area turned to watch.

"Fair?!" Yondu yelled, "I ain't ever been fair! So, why the hell y'expectin' me t'be?!"

"I can do it!" Peter begged.

"I said no, boy!" the Captain barked, "Kraglin's drivin', you, you do y'r'goddamn job. Y'hear me?" Peter snarled at the ground, mumbling bitter words under his breath, "What was that?"

"Yes, sir," he bit the words out, glaring hard at Yondu.

"You best wipe that look off y'r'face 'fore I do it for ya," the Centaurian took a threatening step forward and the boy bit his lips, forcing his face into neutral position as he took a hurried step backwards, "You two 'r leavin' in a little while, now stop arguin' with me 'n git y'r'head in the game!"

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, anger bubbled in his ribs.

"Peter," Kraglin broke the tension, "Make sure y'got everythin'."

"I do," he snapped.

"Just check, huh?" the First Mate requested with gentle impatience.

"I said I do!" Peter yelled, not taking the hint.

"Then go sit in y'r'room till it's time t'go!" Yondu took a long stride, turned the boy quickly and landed a swat on his well-covered behind, "An' lose the attitude!"

Peter sniffed and stomped down the hall, kicking at the mus that crossed his angry path.

He slammed his door and hopped onto the edge of his bed, his elbows propped on his knees, holding his chin as he thought.

Yondu should trust him by now to do a job well, he'd never failed him or given the Captain any reason to think he would. Peter sighed with frustration, convinced Yondu would never think he was capable of piloting the Milano. Maybe he had to prove him wrong.

Yeah. That was it, Peter had to just do it, just take the initiative and show Yondu he could do it. How hard could it be to take off and land? He'd seen Kraglin do it hundreds of times and once he got it in the air he was more than confident of his piloting skills, even the First Mate had given him a sort of compliment once. He'd been slightly impressed when Peter recanted to him how he'd avoided a couple asteroids while the man was in the bathroom, the boy had been thankful Kraglin hadn't checked out the windows to find the sky around them asteroid free.

Very quietly, Peter snuck out of his room, moving quickly down the hall towards the hanger. When he got there, his head swiveled, but he didn't see Kraglin or Yondu anywhere, he didn't see anyone. The Milano was right there, waiting for him to board, and Peter hurried up the open hatch.

He loved the ship, spending as much time as he was allowed on it, though it was never enough. He'd begged Yondu to let him sleep on it, assuring him there was plenty of room and the bunk was sort of comfy, but the Captain had again put his unreasonable foot down and said no. When Peter had scrawled 'or for fun' under the 'spacesuits for emergency' sign, he'd earned himself an obnoxiously long lecture about how those spacesuits were in fact for emergency use only, though Yondu hadn't erased the boy's handwriting once he felt he'd made his point.

Peter plopped into the driver's seat, scooting forward until his hands rested comfortably on the controls, shaking with excitement and nerves. He couldn't second guess himself now, Yondu had to see he was capable. With his eyes on the glowing forcefield in front of the gaping space, Peter pushed the button twice, holding it the second time and smiling happily when his ship rumbled to life. He wasn't the only one who heard it, however, and through the windshield, saw Yondu, Kraglin and Gef run into the hanger, well Gef sort of waddled.

Yondu's fiery red eyes found Peter's and the boy gulped, even more motivated than before to prove himself to the Captain, because, if he didn't, he was really in for it.

With a deep breath, Peter pushed the controls forward, not anticipating the sudden lurch and found himself staring at the ground as he advanced towards it, overcorrecting hard and soaring upward, feeling the ship's underbelly scrape the floor as the overhead lights blinded him and Peter corrected again, but not as hard. Bouncing in the seat as the rig jumped up and down with the slightest move of his hands, but he was making it towards the opening, nearly into deep space.

"BOY!" Yondu's voice crackled over the intercom above him, "Stop now! That's an order!"

"I got it!" Peter yelled with far more confidence than he felt and heard the Captain yelling inaudible obscenities before the speaker cut, but a moment later Kraglin's voice echoed into the cabin.

"Pete," the First Mate was calm in his clear exasperation, "stop, y'r'gonna break her, just-"

"I am not Kraglin!" the boy shouted, finally leveling the Milano as he pushed a little faster towards the exit, he was still moving extremely slow.

"PETER!" Yondu sounded more than angry, frantic, "STOP!"

He didn't stop though, and felt a little lift of weightlessness in the ship as it passed the pressurized forcefield and into the ice-cold vacuum of space. He was doing it! Jesus, what was he doing?! The boy smiled to himself, gazing around the awesome surrounds and contemplating where he should go with the brief freedom.

Peter pushed the controls forward more, accelerating away from Eclector, but he didn't get far before something was wrong. The ship jerked and Peter heard a crash just as the vitals screen started flashing red and an alarm screeched in the cabin. His stomach dropped as he was jostled off the seat, but managed to keep hold of the controls and turned the ship to see a small fighter approaching from the rear.

"STOP!" the intercom crackled with Yondu's panicky voice, "This is Yondu Udonta! We are not approaching on Darbia! That ship deployed on accident! He's just a kid!"

"Udonta," a matter-of-fact voice responded through the intercom, "We allow you and your clan to pass our planet as long as you do it quickly and without attempting to infiltrate our treasures. This ship was in route to Darbia, you know the rules."

"I wasn't!" Peter yelled, but Yondu's voice overpowered his protest.

"He wasn't!" Yondu barked, "He's a kid, it's a mistake! Cease fire, please!"

"Your ship has three seconds to return to the Ecletor," the matter-of-fact voice informed them after a moment of silence on the intercom.

Peter whipped the ship towards the hanger opening and zoomed towards it, the alarm still blaring in his ears as he kept his eye on the Darbian craft trailing him.

"C'mon Pete," Yondu urged through the intercom, "Hurry up, git'cher ass in here!"

He slid passed the glowing forcefield, feeling the Milano pulled down as soon as he entered the pressure controlled room and cringed as the under belly scraped along the floor, sliding a few feet before finally coming to rest in the middle of the huge room. Peter was shaking, his clammy hands gripping the controls so tightly his fingers hurt when he finally let go. The hatch was pried open from the outside and he heard the sounds of heavy boots clomping up to the driver's cabin, Peter's stomach turned. He was so screwed.

Yondu took two strides, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and turning him in a quick examination, visibly relieved to find him unhurt, but Peter's blood ran cold as the Captain's red eyes narrowed.

"What the hell'd y'think you were doin', boy?!" he growled.

"I j-just wan-ted t'show you I c-could do-oo it," Peter stammered.

Yondu responded by lifting the boy under his arm and landing several hard swats to his helpless backside as his limbs dangled and fought to cover his behind. The Captain's hand stilled, but he didn't put Peter back on his feet, carrying the boy from the little craft as he begged to be released. Kraglin took a step back from the open hatch as Yondu walked out with Peter snugged at his side, the boy was still wriggling in the Captain's grip, but another sharp smack to his bottom ceased his attempts at freedom and blushed with humiliation as Yondu walked passed one group of Ravagers after another with Peter hanging helplessly from one arm.

"Yondu, please, I'm sorry!" Peter begged.

"Y'r'about t'be sorrier," Yondu informed him, continuing towards the command room.

"I didn't think-" the boy tried, but was interrupted by an angry scoff.

"That much is obvious," the Captain growled.

"Yondu, please!" Peter cried, kicking his legs again, but the several stinging swats that Yondu responded with made him stop.

The Captain pushed into his quarters, slamming the door behind him and never relenting his grip on the boy in his arm. Peter 's stomach turned as Yondu set him on his feet, tearing the boy's leather jacket off in one movement, tossing it on the sofa in his sitting area as he grabbed Peter by the back of his neck and dragged the child in front of him as he sat in the middle cushion.

"Yondu, no!" Peter pled, putting his hands over the large blue ones that had unsnapped the fastenings on his trousers.

"You don't tell me no," Yondu growled, turning Peter over his knee quickly and peppering the boy's behind before pulling him back to his feet and ripping the little black pants to his knees, pushing him back over his knee in a moment.

Peter cried out as his backside was attacked with nothing but his thin briefs to protect him from the on slaughter. Yondu's hand was hard and he kept bringing it down on one side and the other, focusing on the curve where his thighs began when the boy became far more apologetically submissive to those swats. The Captain held him with a firm grip around Peter's middle, but the boy wasn't fighting anymore, sobbing harder every time the bare skin poking out of the bottom of his underwear was struck.

"Y'could'a killed y'rself!" Yondu's voice broke a little, but his arm didn't lose an ounce of power, continuing to land one punishing smack after another to the naughty little boy's reddening posterior.

Peter felt guilt add to the emotions he was feeling as tears poured down his cheeks and onto the floor. What had he been thinking? He didn't even know where the target was and hadn't bothered to check the flight rules in the area they were traveling before taking off in the Milano. He had almost gotten killed, he'd damaged his precious ship and had made Yondu more than angry, he'd scared him.

"I'm-m s-sor-ry," Peter whimpered, relenting to a limp position over the Captain's knee, accepting that he'd earned every swat he was receiving.

"Y'ever gonna pull some crap like that again?" Yondu growled.

"No, sir!" Peter cried.

"If any of my crew did that they'd have an arrow through the eye right now!" Yondu's hand somehow came down even harder a few times.

"Please!" Peter screamed, gripping Yondu's calf tightly, "I'm sorry!"

"Y'better remember this next time y'think about doin' somethin' stupid," the Captain scolded.

"Yes, sir!" the boy wailed as the last few swats alternated on the tops of his thighs, sure he wouldn't be able to sit for days.

"You better," Yondu said firmly, landing one last smack to the middle of the sobbing boy's bottom before pulling him to his feet.

Peter wiped his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glued to his boots, but Yondu tugged his chin up to look at him.

"I better never hafta have this talk with you again, boy," he said in a low, threatening voice.

"No, sir," Peter sniffled, shaking his head adamantly.

"Go to y'r'room," Yondu demanded with a quick jerk of his head.

"But the job-" Peter whispered, but his protest was interrupted as Yondu yanked him back across his knee and began peppering his very sore behind again.

"Y'r'not goin' anywhere!" Yondu barked, "Y'better start obeyin' orders without backtalk, boy, or y'r'gonna keep endin' up right here," the last two words were each emphasized with a hard swat before Yondu righted Peter on his feet.

Tears were pouring down his cheeks and Peter hiccupped through whimpers as the Captain finished reprimanding him.

"I tell ya t'do something y'better do it," Yondu growled.

"Y-yes, s-ir," Peter nodded, badly wishing he could rub the sting out of his backside.

"Room, now," the Captain bit his words out and the boy nodded, pulling his pants up as quickly and carefully as he could, practically tripping as he hurried from the huge bedroom to his own down the hall.

Peter closed his door and peeled his pants off before crawling slowly onto his bed. He'd really screwed up, he knew it, he could've easily died from the Darbian attack, not to mention the injuries his beloved Milano had sustained because of his stupid stunt. Ten-years-old may have been a big age on Earth, but Peter felt very little as he cried into his pillow with a throbbing behind reminding him of the screw up he'd miraculously survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't wait to hear what you think of this one!


	9. Nobody Messes With The Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was SO hard! Seriously, this took a lot of work and creative thinking to create a job on a planet in the Marvel universe that subsequently can build for stories later in this series. Gramos in the comic world underwent a siege that knocked out it's energy sources so I kinda went that way, BUT there's also that story about Peter's "Illegal Manipulation of a Gramosian Duchess", so I wanted to set up for that possibility much later... I really hope you like this because I'm fried lol

Yondu had kept him unusually close for the next few weeks, Peter felt the Captain's eyes were constantly on him and really hoped his commander saw how hard he was trying to behave. Even a few of the crew had said he'd been surprisingly less annoying lately, which Peter understood to be a compliment. Still though, Yondu found constant reasons for the boy to be in his company and avoid sending him on missions.

Finally, the Captain called him to his table after lunch one day with a small smile.

"Petey, got a job f'r'ya," Yondu told him.

"Really?" Peter exclaimed, but his excitement diminished quickly, he'd fallen for this a few times recently, "Like a real job 'r a ship job?"

"All jobs 'r real jobs, boy," Yondu smirked, "but I need'ja with Kraglin 'n Taserface on this one. Gotta pick up an artifact from an old Gramosian I owe far more than t'just steal somethin' from."

"Cool!" even working with Taserface wasn't going to deter Peter from being enthusiastic about the mission.

"Y'gotta listen," the Captain raised an eyebrow.

"I know," the boy nodded, "I will, I promise."

"Good boy," Yondu gave him a half smile, "Kraglin's gettin' the Milano ready, headin' out as soon as we get into Gramos territory."

"Yes, sir," Peter jumped a little on his way out of the mess hall, sprinting down the hall towards the hanger.

Kraglin was washing the Milano when he arrived, skidding to a halt next to the First Mate with a grin that nearly reached his ears.

"Guessin' Cap told'ja y'r'comin'," Kraglin commented indifferently.

"Yup," Peter nodded.

"Start wipin' her down," he pulled the towel from his shoulder, handing it to Peter and the boy thought he caught an upward tug in the corners of Kraglin's mouth.

Peter scurried up the scaffold, wiping down the Milano as he crawled onto the top carefully. Yondu had yelled at him and Kraglin before when he'd walked in while Peter was on top of the craft, neither could convince the Captain that it was the easiest way, but Kraglin still let him do it when they were alone.

"Kraglin!" Taserface's gruff bark echoed in the hanger and Peter felt his stomach drop, not from fear, he wasn't afraid of that ugly idiot, but Taserface was really loud and the boy had nearly slipped from the surprise, "Why 'r we takin' this piece'a crap?!"

Peter scowled down at the Ravager approaching Kraglin, rubbing the blue metal in apology to his ship for Taserface's insult.

"She's fast," Kraglin responded with indifference, "an' with the Gramosian's defenses down after that attack we just gotta get in 'n get out quick as we can."

"The Herlio is a better ship," Taserface argued, though his bellow had lost conviction.

"The Herlio is bulky 'n we gotta get this done quick," Kraglin said firmly.

"Fine," Taserface barked, "but if you let that boy drive-"

"What?!" the First Mate snapped, "Y'gonna jump out? 'Cause y'r'wart-covered face freezin' out there might be enough reason f'r'me t'let him!"

Peter felt warmth growing in his gut and couldn't help a smile as he watched the men argue below him.

"Y'r'as bad as the Captain with that runt," Taserface scoffed, turning to leave the hanger.

Kraglin turned back to his task, not even glancing up as he ordered, "Back t'work Pete."

Yup, Kraglin definitely liked him, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud.

As they finished polishing the Milano, the First Mate explained to Peter that they'd be flying into Gramos, a planet normally very well protected, but had recently suffered a siege knocking out all their energy sources, leaving the inhabitants that hadn't yet fled in a state of primitive survival. Kraglin told him there was a Gramosian broker, Skorta, who hadn't held up his side of a bargain the last time he'd dealt with Yondu, instead, surprising the Ravagers with his clan in full attack when the Captain had come to claim his reward. Peter was shocked anyone would be so stupid to back out of a finalized deal with the Centaurian and asked Kraglin why he hadn't just used his arrow on Skorta.

"M'sure he could'a," Kraglin shrugged, "but he wouldn't've gotten all the Gramosians before they got some of us."

"How's it comin', boys?" Yondu asked as he walked into the hanger, Peter sighed, glad he'd descended from the roof a minute prior.

"Good, Capt'n," Kraglin said, "Fueled up, polished, she's ready t'go."

"How 'bout you, Pete?" Yondu raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"Let's go!" Peter jumped, earning a chuckled from both men.

"Where's Taserface?" Yondu asked.

"Somewhere," Kraglin shrugged.

"Bein' a moron," Peter added quietly, but definitely saw a curl in the corner of Kraglin's mouth that time.

"Well, that moron is gonna keep y'from gettin' killed if y'get caught," Yondu informed him tersely.

"I don't get caught," Peter grumbled and felt a sharp jab in his shoulder from Kraglin's elbow.

"Boy," Yondu began warningly, "you don't hafta go."

Peter's eyes went wide and his mouth flew open, ready to protest, but the First Mate squeezed his shoulder, hard.

"He'll be fine, Capt'n," Kraglin said quickly, "Taserface just came in earlier talkin' 'bout how the ship's a junker, y'know how he is."

"He's an idiot," Yondu scoffed and pointed at Peter, "but he's still on y'r'team, so play nice, kid."

"Yes, sir," Peter muttered and Kraglin's grip lessened before patting the boy's shoulder as the Captain turned down the hallway.

"Taserface! If you hold up this goddamn job y'r'not gonna live t'see another!" Yondu's voice was loud and threatening as he stomped through the corridor.

"I hate workin' with that jerk," Kraglin mumbled.

"Why don't you tell Yondu y'don't wanna?" Peter asked and the First Mate let out a hard, single laugh.

"Y'don't tell the Capt'n no, boy," Kraglin smirked at him, "He's not as easy on the rest'a us as he is on you."

"He doesn't go easy on me," Peter pouted.

"Keep tellin' y'rself that," Kraglin chuckled, "A'right, you ready t'go?"

"Uh," Peter was not, having left his backpack and Walkman in his bedroom, the backpack he actually needed for the job, but he really didn't want to get stuck listening to Taserface's grating voice.

"Hurry up!" Kraglin pointed firmly at the hallway and Peter sprinted from the hanger.

He hurried to his bedroom, tossing the Walkman in his backpack and slipping the straps on his shoulders, hardly even stopping before he bolted back to the hallway, bumping smack into Yondu.

"Watch where y'r'goin', boy," the Captain scolded, pulling Peter to his feet by the back of his jacket.

"Sorry," Peter said and tried to take off down the corridor, but Yondu's grip on his jacket didn't relent.

"I'm goin' with ya," Yondu told him, walking towards the hanger with the boy.

"Why?" Peter asked.

"'Cause I can," the Captain answered gruffly, "Taserface pissed me off, I ain't payin' him t'do a halfassed job."

Peter was glad Taserface wouldn't be going, but internally sighed that Yondu would, the Captain always micromanaged the job when he went, and never let Peter fly the Milano. Still though, he'd rather be on the job than not and walked at an even pace with Yondu to the hanger where Kraglin was waiting.

The scaffold had been rolled away and the Milano's hatch was open when they walked in, Peter had a very hard time keeping himself from running up the ramp. Kraglin was sitting in the pilot's seat, checking the controls and flipping switches, but turned when the Captain sauntered into the cockpit with Peter.

"Capt'n?"

"I'm joinin' y'today, Kraglin," Yondu informed him, taking the seat behind the two main drivers.

"Yes, sir," the First Mate nodded, turning front immediately and holding the button until the turbines kicked on underneath them.

"Buckle up, Pete," Yondu jerked his head at the empty driver seat and Peter hopped into, he knew he wasn't going to get control, but he liked to pretend.

They were soaring through the glowing forcefield in a moment, Peter covered his mouth to stifle the excited giggle as they entered the blackness of space outside the Eclector. It had been a while since his short-lived, solo flight, but no matter how many times he took off in the Milano, Peter had the same reaction.

Kraglin turned the craft around the giant mothership, finally reaching the other side and Peter gasped at the planet ahead. It looked almost like the globes he'd seen at school, but significantly more neon in color, the brightness didn't fade as they approached, rounding the planet at lightning speed.

"A'right, boy," Yondu tore Peter's attention from the enthralling scene, "same as always, get'cha into the vents 'n listen t'what'cher told. Remember how y'got there 'n get back quick. Y'hear?"

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded with the most serious look he could muster.

They descended in darkness towards a city, rows of dark and abandoned buildings stretched as far as Peter could see, which wasn't very far. Kraglin, however, seemed to know where he was going and located the rooftop of one of the tallest structures, gently lowering the Milano into a perfect landing between the useless exhaust stacks.

"A'right, Pete, headset on?" Kraglin asked and Peter turned his head, pointing to the silver piece behind his ear, "Good."

The First Mate lowered the hatch and Yondu pulled his arrow from its holster, ready at his side as he led Peter down the ramp and into the cold night air on the rooftop.

"Listen t'Kraglin, boy," Yondu reminded.

"I will," Peter managed to keep the exasperation out of his voice, but rolled his eyes behind the Captain.

"I'll meet'cha back up here when y'r'done," he said.

"Where y'goin'?" Peter asked.

"My business," Yondu told him, ripping a large grate off the stagnant ventilation system, "Put the mask on, I'm not sure what kinda gasses got left when the generators stopped workin'."

Peter smiled, he loved wearing the mask, it wasn't exactly comfortable, but it looked really cool. The shiny ear piece had now become as much of a staple in his wardrobe as his leather jacket and blaster. Yondu had gotten the retractable forcefield helmet in a trade with an Axi-Tun, he modified it slightly so the mask would fit Peter's head as he grew. When he'd first gotten it, Peter had stared at himself in any reflection he could find wearing the steel face with large red lenses for eyes and watching as a touch of a finger behind his ear dissolved the solid mask, revealing a laughing boy every time.

Though he was entirely serious on the rooftop, jobs were serious business and he finally had gotten his opportunity to prove himself again. Peter had no intention of screwing it up and reached a finger behind his ear, feeling the mask build around his face. Yondu was suddenly a deep shade of purple and the surrounds he could see were tinged red.

"Y'hear me Pete?" Kraglin's voice echoed in his ear.

"Loud 'n clear," Peter said and, with a nod to his Captain, hopped into the vent and began crawling into the building.

"A'right," Kraglin continued, "y'r'gonna go straight till y'git t'the drop, y'need the third level down, but I got'cha on the layout here I'll let'cha know when y'r'close."

"Got it," Peter affirmed, army crawling through the dim, red vents.

Ahead he saw a black square in the rosy auras surrounding it and knew that was the drop, Peter's stomach squirmed, he felt like James Bond in space, which was cooler than James Bond anyway. Peter let his legs dangle into the seemingly endless black hole, hunched from the low height, and pulled a retractor from his belt, setting it on the metal of the vent he was sitting on and pressing firmly down with his palm until he heard a click. He tugged hard every way he could on the black circle, but it wouldn't budge. Satisfied, Peter pulled his gloves from his pocket before grabbing the braided cord attaching his belt to the anchor, he'd made that mistake before, and lowered himself into the black hole.

"That was fast, Pete," Kraglin sounded a little impressed, "Y'got about thirty feet then go right."

"Got it," Peter said, sliding down the cord quickly.

"Woah, Pete, woah, twelve feet," Kraglin said, "calm down, kid."

"Just workin', Kraglin," Peter sighed.

"Six feet," the First Mate sounded like he'd chuckled before coming back to the intercom, "Go right."

"I heard'ja," Peter said, using his toes to pull himself to the horizontal vent floor, cutting the cord with a small knife once he'd crawled into the space, definitely cooler than James Bond.

"A'right, doesn't look like anymore drops," Kraglin's voice crackled a little, "the vault room is on the other side'a Skorta's quarters, camera system is down, well everything's down, so y'gotta be ready, but word we got's that most e'rybody on this rock took off so if there's a guard on that room I'm bettin' they only got enough f'r'the outside, 'n you ain't goin' out there. Can y'see anything under you?"

Peter had just then come to a grate where it had been solid metal and peered down into the red blackness below, "No, it's too dark."

"Well based on this layout you're just about t'be over Skorta's office," Kraglin sounded unsure, "I'm workin' off a map that isn't exactly recent."

Peter's stomach flipped, "Why?!"

"Their powers out," the First Mate responded obviously, "What would y'like me t'hook into?"

Peter grumbled, but had no response, and continued down the vent, peering down at every grate opening, not sure if he was relieved or concerned by the desolate pattern repeating as he went. It wasn't entirely deserted for long, however, as the Captain's familiar voice reached Peter's ears, but sent a chill down his spine.

"It's been a while Skorta," Yondu sneered.

"Y-yondu," a man's voice broke and sounded scared, no terrified, Peter hurried quietly, trying to find the grate the altercation was above, "Y-you've hea-rd about our tr-oubles here on Gramos I take it."

"Couldn't care less 'bout y'r'troubles," the Captain informed him.

"We are rebuilding," the shaking voice insisted, "the Emperor has already begun with our army!"

"His army," Yondu corrected, "I have no qualms with y'r'king 'n I don't see 'n army here, not this time. Guess y'ran outta dough, huh?"

"They were greedy," the man said regretfully, "It was a terrible thing to do, Yondu, to ambush you like that."

"Well, y'know I'd hate t'lose the opportunity t'return the favor," Yondu's voice was filled with icy amusement, "an' kick ya while y'r'down."

"It wasn't-" the scared voice insisted, but screamed as a sweet whistle cut through the air, "No!" an almost pretty tune, "Plea-ease Yondu!" finished with an impossibly high note Yondu hit perfectly just as Peter hovered over the dimly lit room and saw the red streak of the Captain's arrow pierce the heart of a dark blue man.

He didn't gasp, but Peter couldn't look away until the Captain's voice, far soften than it had been, though still firm, took his attention from the dead Gramosian.

"Almost there Pete."

The boy nodded and continued down the vent, whispering into his mask, "Kraglin, did you hear that?"

"That's why nobody messes with the Capt'n, kid," the First Mate sounded like he was smiling and Peter smiled too, Yondu was kind of a badass. Kraglin was more serious when he spoke again, "Okay, Pete, this next grate's the one y'wanna get through."

It was a tight squeeze to flip his backpack off in the vent, but Peter grabbed his laser cuter and pristinely sliced a hole in the grate, holding the middle with his fingers as he finished the circle and carefully set the remanence to the side. He clicked on the flashlight from his bag, he liked to think he was cooler for not using it through the vents on jobs, but truthfully he just forgot to grab it most of the time. In the blackness of his destination, however, he needed to see where he was going.

"Okay, Kraglin," Peter whispered, lowering himself onto the top of a high cabinet, "I'm goin' in."

"A'right, kid," Kraglin whispered too, "y'r'lookin' f'r'a copper box, little bigger than y'r'toy there."

"It's a Walkman," Peter grumbled, shining the flashlight around the room at the treasure of objects.

"Yeah, yeah," Kraglin said, "It'll have symbols on it, not gonna describe 'em 'cause y'won't know 'em anyway, but they're silver."

Peter snuck down the shelves, dropping silently onto the floor, while swiveling his head around the room. It wasn't a large room and seemed smaller by the stacks of electronics, strange artifacts and weird books that definitely weren't made of paper, but Peter spied the copper box on a shelf and everything else fell away from his vision. He slid his backpack off, unzipping it on the floor and carefully picked the box up, examining the silver markings on the lid before sliding it into his bag.

As he was zipping it up, a funny little object caught his eye and Peter smirked at the weird green elephant with three trunks. It seemed so out of place in this treasure room, encased by clear crystal in the middle of a low shelf. He didn't know why, but Peter lifted the cover, shoved the knickknack in his pocket, tossed his bag on his back and shimmied up the cabinet, back into the hole in the vent grate.

"I'm headin' back," Peter said.

"D'ja get it?" Kraglin asked.

"No, I found a target-laser instead," he scoffed.

"Peter!" Kraglin barked.

"I'm kidding, jeez," Peter sighed, "I got it, I'm headin' back t'the drop. Is Yondu back?"

"Not yet," the First Mate said.

Peter crawled further along the dim vents, though he remembered to keep his flashlight out this time, but stopped when he heard angry voices echoing below him.

"Say good-bye, Yondu," one growled.

"You think you can steal from the Gramosians?" another laughed darkly.

Peter found the grate, staring down at three dark blue men with necroblasters trained on the Captain whose arrow hovered next to his ear threateningly. He didn't speak, but Peter saw him purse his lips as the blasters facing him whined, moments from firing. All Yondu needed was a distraction and he'd have his arrow through all of them before they could fire a single blast.

"Hey jerkwads!" Peter yelled, unprepared for the blast sent his way, but managed to push himself back from the grate, which was now a gaping hole in the ventilation system.

"Peter!" Yondu called after a moment of silence.

He crawled to the still smoking metal where the grate had just been and nervously peered over the edge at the pile of three Gramosians and then, touching behind his ear to dissolve the mask, slowly turned his gaze to Yondu. The Captain didn't look particularly pleased, but he didn't look upset either as he holstered his arrow.

"Y'okay?" Yondu asked, jerking his head for Peter to descend.

"Yeah," the boy said as he swung himself down, careful to keep only his gloved hands on the jagged metal of the destroyed grate, "Y'mad at me?"

"It was a dumb move," Yondu nodded, "but it worked, 'n sometimes that's all we've got."

Peter couldn't help a small smile at the Captain's sort-of compliment and followed him down the dark hallways. Only one more Gramosian appeared as they made their way back to the roof, the dark blue humanoid didn't even see the arrow before it soared through his chest and back to Yondu's waiting hand.

Kraglin was waiting with the Milano ready to go, hovering a few feet over the rooftop, and Peter hurried up the open hatch, Yondu sauntered on a few moments later. The First Mate took off as he closed the hatch, clearly more eager to leave the planet than his commander.

"Let's see what'cha got Petey," Yondu extended his hand and Peter turned around so he could take his backpack, the Captain smiled menacingly as he took the copper box out, "Nice job, boy."

"Thanks," Peter smirked, "Oh, I uh, here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out the weird, green elephant, "I just thought it was funny."

Yondu slowly took the little object from the boy, setting the copper box down and his wide, ominous smile softened, "F'r'me?" Peter nodded, "Well, thanks, Peter, I, uh, I think it's funny too. He'll stay on my control console, help me when I'm flyin'."

Peter grinned as Yondu's hand ruffled his hair and the Captain continued chuckling lightly at the stolen trinket.

"Capt'n," Kraglin stole their attention, "we're approaching the atmosphere."

"Buckle up Pete," Yondu said as he took his own seat, still examining his new treasure, "Kraglin, let the boy pilot a bit once y'break through."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin gave Peter a sideways smirk with a wink and the boy stifled a squeal of excitement as he clicked his belt over his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love your feedback and can't wait to hear what you think of this one!


	10. The Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has been in my head for a little while, I'm changing it up here on you for a second, this chapter is from Yondu's perspective. I wanted to get in his head about Peter especially after Stakar Ogord finds out and exiles Yondu from the Ravager factions. So this was my attempt to burrow under that red mohawk and get some Yondu feels.

Yondu was not expecting the day to turn into what it had, but now he had to deal with it, he’d accepted responsibility for the boy and he couldn’t back away from that, even if it had cost him everything. Stakar Ogord and the other Ravager clans were the closest thing the Centaurian had ever had to a family, and, because of his greed, they were gone.  
  
When Ego had made the offer of picking up his various children from different planets around the universe, Yondu saw the chance to make a lot of money with very little work. He’d hardly even paid attention to the first few lives he’d kept as cargo before dumping each child on Ego’s planet without any further consideration, but when he’d returned several more, each to find the paradise barren of children, Yondu asked the Celestial carefully what he’d done with them.  
  
Ego had smiled menacingly and told the Captain he hadn’t hurt them, but they had unfortunately disappointed him. Yondu did his best not to react to the information, despite his insides crawling with disgust and guilt, he’d agreed to the next pick up on Terra, but had no intention of delivering that child. He’d find a safe planet with a nice family, maybe on Xandar, those people looked like Terrans, the child would probably feel nearly at home.  
  
When he’d met Peter, however, Yondu’s battle-worn heart softened the moment the little boy threw his small arms around the Captain’s middle and cried over his mother’s passing. He tried to harden himself against the emotions Peter enticed, but, when Kraglin made a comment about Yondu looking happier than the First Mate had ever seen, he knew he couldn’t send the boy away. It wasn’t long until the Captain saw how useful Peter could be, along with bringing a new liveliness to the Eclector, but the way he’d discovered the boy could fit in ventilation systems had brought a boiling anger Yondu never expected to have against a member of his crew. He didn’t at all regret what he’d done to Skapraun, only wishing he could’ve made the spike-headed moron suffer before sending the arrow through his eye.  
  
He’d tried to explain the circumstances to Stakar, that Peter was in danger, but the leader of the Ogord clan refused to hear anything as he stalked back to his taxi-craft. It had been a spontaneous visit, Stakar had heard rumors of a child being aboard the Eclector and there was no warning before the intimidating Ravager leader was already within close enough distance to fly into the hanger where Peter was working with Kraglin.  
  
Yondu had heard the radar warning and rushed into the hanger just as Stakar and a few of his trusted crew members were walking down the open ramp of the Ogord taxi-craft. The Captain could’ve locked them out, but that would’ve caused concerns of trust and he didn’t need to add to the distrust Stakar would already have with him. Kraglin had stood at attention and saluted the other clan leader, Peter followed suit and seeing the boy bang his chest twice with his little fist had made Yondu proud briefly before Stakar’s leveling glare filled the Centaurian with dread.  
  
“So it’s true?” Stakar’s question was filled with bitterness, glancing at Peter with disgust and his expression only hardened on the Captain.  
  
“Stakar,” Yondu bowed a bit at his former commander, “I can explain-”  
  
“How?!” Stakar barked, making Peter jump behind Kraglin.  
  
“Stakar, please,” Yondu had begged, quickly muttering an order at his First Mate, “Kraglin, take Peter to his room.”  
  
“He has a room?!” Stakar yelled, “Yondu! What the hell are you doing?!”  
  
“Stakar, please, listen,” Yondu tried as Kraglin dragged Peter quickly from the hanger, “I screwed up. I got involved in somethin’ I shouldn’t’ve, but I’m tryin’ t’make it right now.”  
  
“So it’s true there were more?” Stakar growled, “You’ve been trafficking kids around the galaxies the last five cycles!”  
  
“Yes, but, Stakar,” Yondu protested, “I didn’t realize what this maniac was doin’. Honest, if I had-”  
  
“Ravagers don’t deal in kids!” Stakar boomed, “It don’t matter what you realized or when y’realized it! You broke the code! Yondu! How could you?”  
  
Yondu felt guilt swarming his insides as the last words of his former leader echoed with more disappointment than anger.  
  
“Stakar, I,” he began, but simply hung his blue head in shame, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“That doesn’t matter,” Stakar sneered, turning back towards his ship, “Do whatever you want, Yondu, there are now only ninety-nine seats at my table, you, are no longer welcome.”  
  
“Stakar,” Yondu felt panic quake through him, “please, it was just-”  
  
“No, Yondu!” Stakar snapped as he turned, “We have a code, you break it, you’re out! Enjoy what’s left of your life, my colors and those of _my_ brethren will never flash over your grave.”  
  
With that, Stakar and his few crew members boarded their ship and departed from the Eclector while the Captain stood frozen in his own shame and grief.  
  
It took a while for Yondu to collect himself enough to leave the hanger, thankful none of his crew had interrupted his privacy and wondered if Kraglin had told them to avoid the area. The Captain walked through the corridors towards the command room and his quarters, his shoulders tight with stress and he ran his hand over the hard, protruding fin on his head.  
  
“Yondu?” Peter’s whisper got his attention and Yondu turned to see the boy peeking out of his room.  
  
“Yeah, Pete?” Yondu sighed.  
  
“That guy looked kinda mean,” Peter said and Yondu couldn’t help a smile.  
  
“Yeah, kid,” the Captain agreed, “he kinda is.”  
  
“You okay?” Peter asked.  
  
Yondu was surprised by the sincere concern for him from the young boy staring up with innocent, hazel eyes. He’d lost the only family he’d ever known, broken the code given to him by the man who’d saved the Centaurian from a lifetime of slavery, yet Peter seemed to soften the grief tormenting the Captain.  
  
“Yeah, Petey,” Yondu nodded, “I’m okay.”  
  
The boy gave him a look of disbelief before holding up a finger and turning back into his room. Yondu leaned in the doorway and watched Peter rummage through his backpack, pulling out his cherished Walkman and offering it to the Captain.  
  
“It always makes me feel better,” Peter told him.  
  
“Thanks, Pete,” Yondu grinned, taking the treasured device.  
  
“Just don’t let anybody else use it,” Peter requested, “except maybe Kraglin if he wants, he likes Five Stairsteps.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” the Captain assured him, “nobody else touches it.”  
  
Peter smiled at the promise and Yondu continued down the hallway towards his own bedroom, slipping the headphones on his ears. The Captain hardly acknowledged the few crew members in the command room while he walked into his quarters, pressing the play button on the Walkman as he reclined on his sofa.  
  
_Ooh-oo child_  
 _Things are gonna get easier_  
 _Ooh-oo child_  
 _Things'll get brighter_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll stick with Peter from now on I promise lol Hope you guys didn't hate this!


	11. Kraglin and Peter's Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a prompt and turned into something a little more original, so I still have a prompt idea, but I really like the direction this took. I wanted to give a little more attention to Kraglin and Peter's relationship, there's a lot of stories that portray him as sort of a mother type, but when I watch those movies, especially the second one, all I see is a big brother and his golden boy little brother.  
> I know Kraglin is portrayed as kind of a dope in the movies, but Yondu's not a dumb guy and I feel like the only way Kraglin became his First Mate was by proving that he was capable of it, plus Kraglin has showed a few times he's not a softy. So I've given him a little edge because I think he'd have it, I think he'd have to.  
> Anyway I really hope you enjoy this idea and look forward to your feedback!

They were making a stop. Peter loved when they made stops and he could depart the Eclector and explore a new planet, unfortunately always under Yondu’s lingering gaze. Regardless, he was excited, especially because the crew seemed particularly enthusiastic for the stop and they were rarely eager to leave the ship without the promise of money, plus, Peter had never been to Contraxia before.

“Don’t be gettin’ antsy when we land, boy,” Yondu told Peter after calling him and Kraglin into the command room, “Contraxia ain’t a place f’r’kids, y’r’stayin’ on board.”

“What?!” Peter shouted as he stomped his foot.

“Don’t argue with me!” Yondu snapped, “I ain’t got time t’be keepin’ an eye on y’boy!”

Peter felt his nose tingling as his vision blurred with tears, but he wouldn’t cry in front of the Captain and First Mate, hardening his resolve to hold back the emotions overwhelming him. He wanted to beg and protest further, but Peter was afraid any attempt at speech would dissolve him into sobs, quite the opposite of what he wanted. Swallowing hard on the lump in his throat and blinking a few times to rid his eyes of the damp emotion, he just glared at Yondu’s boots.

“Capt’n,” Kraglin said tentatively, “I understand what y’r’sayin’, but y’know the kid could really use some fresh air ‘n there’s a few parts’a Contraxia that ain’t filled with bars ‘n courtesans.”

“I got business t’attend there, Kraglin,” Yondu said flatly, “I ain’t got time t’watch him ‘n it ain’t the place we can just let him wander off alone.”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin barley nodded and grimaced almost apologetically at the Captain, “but I wouldn’t mind, f’r’a little while, I mean, if he gets some’a that energy out he’d be less of a pain in my ass up here, Capt’n, sir.”

The First Mate had slowly found his feet at the end of his suggestion, but Yondu was smirking thoughtfully.

“A’right,” Yondu nodded, “if y’r’willin’ t’take him, I guess that’d be okay.”

Peter’s smile widened and he bounced on his toes, “Really?!”

“Y’better listen t’Kraglin,” the Captain said sternly.

“I will,” Peter assured him.

“I mean it, boy,” Yondu growled, “if I hear otherwise we’re gonna have problems.”

“Okay,” Peter sighed, but the narrowing red eyes quickly produced a more respectful response, “Uh, yes, sir.”

“Better,” Yondu nodded curtly and changed his focus to Kraglin, “Y’watch him ‘n y’watch _out_ f’r’him, y’hear?”

“Yes, sir,” the First Mate answered immediately.

“Don’t be takin’ him into any’a those hovels,” the Captain ordered, “or by the gamblin’ joint.”

“No, sir,” Kraglin shook his head.

“A’right,” Yondu nodded with satisfaction, “We’re about eighty-seven clicks away from descending, make sure y’r’both up here when it’s time.”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin and Peter said and left the command room together.

“Hey, thanks, Kraglin,” Peter smiled up at the thin man as they walked.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Pete,” Kraglin shrugged, “I seen those places enough, but it’d be nice t’get some cold air.”

“Cold?” Peter asked.

“Yeah,” Kraglin nodded, “always cold there, snows all the time. Y’know where those gloves y’got are?”

“Yeah,” the boy was grinning ear to ear, “Like snow, snow?”

“Not sure what other kind there is,” Kraglin muttered, “Make sure y’dress warm, I don’t wanna hear y’whinin’.”

“I don’t whine,” Peter rolled his eyes, stopping at his bedroom door as the Frist Mate continued down the hallway, scoffing lightly in response.

Peter hadn’t thought the fur gloves and hat would be much use when they’d been included in the wardrobe Yondu had requested from Aparski on Xandar, he really thought they were quite ugly too, but when they departed the Eclector on Contraxia, he not only found them highly necessary, Peter noticed that his were certainly the plainer options of accessories. Some of the hats he saw didn’t even make sense and Peter tried to get Kraglin to follow one lady, who seemed to have a polar bear sitting on her head, so the boy could see how she walked through doorways, but the First Mate dragged him in another direction.

“C’mon,” Peter whined, “all the fun’s that way.”

“That’s the fun you can’t join in, kid,” Kraglin told him, “An’ I told’ja no whinin’.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t refute the claim, his words had come out rather whiney.

“Where we goin’?” he asked when he’d followed Kraglin away from the city area, trudging through deep footprints others had left.

“There’s a place over here I think,” Kraglin jerked his head, “Never been, but I’ve heard’a it a few times we’ve been here. The kids ‘round here like it I guess.”

“What?” Peter asked, jogging to catch up with the First Mate’s longer strides, but stopped and gasped as they walked out of the city fog.

Peter found himself nearing the top of a very large hill, the shouts of children reached his ears and, while the remaining fog cleared, he saw groups of various colored, small humanoids sliding down the snowy hill on shiny saucers. A few adults stood around watching their enjoyment and Peter jumped from excitement as he followed Kraglin towards the crowd.

A few abandoned saucers laid on the ground as they got closer and Kraglin nudged Peter, jerking his head at one of the sleds in silent direction to grab it, which Peter did quickly without anyone noticing.

“A’right, kid,” Kraglin led him to a less populated part of the hill, “Y’know wha’cher doin’?”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter’s smile only grew, clutching the metallic saucer in his hands eagerly.

“Go on then,” Kraglin jerked his head with a small grin and Peter whooped with a running start before landing on the saucer on his stomach and barreling down the snowy hill.

He was more than happy. Peter laughed manically as he soared passed the strange looking children trudging back up the hill with their sleds. He slowed at the bottom, turning sideways and rolling onto the ground in a fit of giggles. Looking up at the First Mate, Peter waved enthusiastically with both arms before rushing to grab the silver saucer and running through the powdery snow to the top.

He was out of breath when he reached Kraglin, but Peter’s smile was still wide on his beet red face and he took another running start, trying to go even faster every time. Many of the children were racing and, when Peter came to another rolling stop at the bottom, a green skinned girl smiled at him.

“You wanna race with us?” she asked.

“Yeah!” Peter exclaimed, grabbing his saucer and rushing with the small group of children back up the hill.

They all took running starts, though only one other boy braved laying on his stomach, where most of them sat on their sleds, and Peter and the other kid in a face-first position pulled ahead of the others. There was no amount of leaning to insist the saucer to go faster and the boys tumbled into the snow in laughter at the exact same time in almost the exact same place. The other kids didn’t slide quite as far as them before they too rolled off their sleds and a tie was called between Peter and the other boy, which both were happy to accept.

They raced a couple more times before a few had to leave. The light was dimming behind the heavily overcast sky and much of the group on top of the hill had dispersed. Peter’s face was frozen, even through the fur gloves his fingers were shaking and he hadn’t been able to feel his legs for at least a quarter of an hour. Kraglin was still standing, arms crossed, watching from the same solitary position he’d been since they’d arrived and Peter trudged slowly up to him, completely out of breath.

“Y’bout ready?” the First Mate asked.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded with exhaustion.

“Just drop that thing somewhere,” Kraglin nodded at the saucer and Peter let it fall to the ground.

He followed as Kraglin headed back towards the city, trying to hurry, but his legs were sore and cold, still, the First Mate continued as Peter fell back.

“Kraglin!” he called, “Wait up!”

“C’mon, Pete,” Kraglin sighed, but stopped and turned to wait for the boy.

Kraglin walked slower after Peter caught up.

“Thank you,” Peter said once his breathing slowed to normal.

“Can’t really watch y’back there,” the First Mate scoffed, “just keep up a’right.”

“No, I meant,” Peter grinned shaking his head, “for sledding, that was awesome.”

“Oh,” Kraglin’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “Yeah, don’t mention it, kid.”

They walked a little ways in silence, but Peter glanced up at the sharp face of the First Mate a few times with the same little grin, looking away quickly every time Kraglin turned at him. The sounds of the city were heard before the lights and buildings came into view through the heavy smog, but Peter stayed close to Kraglin as they maneuvered through crowds of boisterous tavern patrons. It seemed every place around them was hosting a party, with attendees spilling into the streets, sloshing their drinks as they laughed and jumped around.

“Kraglin!” a familiar voice echoed loudly and through the haze Horuz approached with a goblet in one hand and what looked like a half-eaten, deep-fried obloni in the other, “Joinin’ the party finally, eh?”

“No can do, Horuz,” Kraglin shook his head, “just headin’ back t’the ship now.”

“What?” Horuz laughed and took a gulp from his drink, dripping green liquid down his beard, “We got plen’y’a time! Relax, have a drink, git the boy one! They won’t say nothin’ he’s with us!”

“Them’s not my orders,” Kraglin said.

“Oooooh, look at him,” a high-pitched voice crooned and three women stopped around the crew members with their eyes on Peter.

“What a cutie!” the one with green skin and blue hair gushed.

“He is!” the one with blue skin and purple hair agreed, smiling at Kraglin, “that little jacket makes him look like a mini you.”

Kraglin and Peter glanced at each other, both were unsure how to respond the attention, but Horuz eagerly took the opportunity to converse with the trio of females.

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” Horuz’s agreement made Peter nearly laugh out loud, sure it was killing the Ravager inside to say such a thing about the boy he swore did nothing but annoy him, “Pete’s like our mascot.”

“I’m not a mascot!” Peter said bitterly, “I’m a Ravager.”

“I bet you’re the best ones too,” the woman with purple skin and green hair said sweetly, though Peter found it extremely condescending.

“Better than most,” Kraglin muttered, Horuz scowled and Peter smiled.

“We just got a table inside,” the blue skinned one said, “Come and join us!”

“We gotta be-” Kraglin began.

“Of course, ladies!” Horuz interrupted loudly, sloshing his drink as he threw his arms up with enthusiasm, “We would love to join you.”

The three women gave each other annoyed sideways glances, but the blue skinned one forced a grin at the burly Ravager before looking at Kraglin with a genuine smile, “We’ll be in the back corner.”

“A’right,” Kraglin nodded stiffly and the three women left to enter the tavern, the blue one repeatedly turning to giggle a little at the First Mate, who tugged Peter’s shoulder as soon as they were out of sight, “C’mon, kid, let’s go.”

“Kraglin!” Horuz sounded desperate, “Y’can’t take him! The boy’s a goldmine! C’mon one drink, let’s just see how many ladies he can pull in.”

“My orders are t’take him back t’the Eclector,” Kraglin said as if that should be the end of the matter.

“I just saw the Capt’n leavin’ Sloegr’s with a couple a big breasted girls headin’ towards the Mustrond joint,” Horuz told him, “He ain’t gonna be back f’r’hours.”

“That ain’t none’a my business,” Kraglin growled, “Or yours.”

Horuz shifted his gaze down for a moment, but then looked almost pleadingly at the First Mate, “C’mon, Kraglin, be a pal, huh? Just one drink.”

“I’m the Capt’n’s second ‘fore I’m y’r’pal,” Kraglin said coldly, “C’mon, Pete.”

The First Mate took a few steps away and Peter turned to follow him, but a harsh grip on his arm dragged him backwards and the boy didn’t even have time to yelp before Horuz wrapped burly arms around his chest and face.

“Calm down, Pete,” Horuz growled as Peter kicked at him, “I ain’t gonna hurt’cha.”

Peter sunk his teeth into the leather of Horuz’s jacket as hard as he could and the Ravager yelped as he let the boy go, who turned and kicked him hard in the shin.

“C’mon, kid,” Horuz held Peter by the shoulder while rubbing his leg with the other, “help me out here, please.”

“You almost suffocated me y’jackass,” Peter grumbled.

“Oh, uh, sorry ‘bout that,” Horuz grimaced apologetically, “look, just hang around f’r’a minute, let me get talkin’ one’a them up ‘n then-”

“HORUZ!” Kraglin shouted so loud several tavern patrons jumped and moved aside for the First Mate to stalk towards Peter and the Ravager.

“Kraglin, I was just-” Horuz tried, but Kraglin seized him by the front of his jacket and pulled him right in front of his face.

“I oughta tell Capt’n! ‘r just beat’cha senseless myself!” Kraglin growled and Peter was surprised how much the larger man cowered at the threat, “Y’got a few more hours here, stop wastin’ it pissin’ me off!”

With that, Kraglin released Horuz rather roughly, grabbed Peter by the upper arm, pivoting the young man and no less than pulling him from the tavern. Peter found the treatment rather unfair considering he hadn’t done anything wrong and tried to wrench his arm from the First Mate’s iron grip.

“Cut it out, Pete,” Kraglin ordered.

“I didn’t do anything,” Peter whined, “he just grabbed me ‘n dragged me in there! Quit draggin’ me Kraglin!”

He did. Kraglin stopped and let go, running a hand over his hair as the boy rubbed his arm a bit dramatically.

“Sorry,” Kraglin mumbled.

“S’okay,” Peter shrugged, “I didn’t wanna go in there, thanks f’r’comin’.”

Kraglin scoffed, “Capt’n kill me if somethin’ happened t’you.”

“Naw,” Peter grinned as they continued walking towards the ship, “he needs you.”

“Y’think?” the First Mate asked.

“You don’t?” Peter furrowed his brow in surprise.

The corners of Kraglin’s mouth tugged upward.

They reached the Eclector and Kraglin told Peter to change out of his wet clothes, which the boy did immediately, finding walking very uncomfortable as his pants were frozen stiff. He’d had a lot of fun though and hoped it wasn’t too long before they stopped on Contraxia again, sure he could convince Kraglin to take him back to the hill.

As Peter was slipping a clean shirt over his head, a knock sounded on his door and Kraglin entered.

“Got’cher wet stuff?” the First Mate asked and Peter pointed at the pile on the ground, with a sigh, Kraglin picked up the articles of clothing, hanging Peter’s red jacket on wall hook.

“Thanks, Kraglin,” Peter said with a little surprise.

“I gotta throw mine in too,” he shrugged, “Y’hungry?”

“Starving,” Peter nodded.

“Well, let’s rustle up some grub,” Kraglin said, “Meet me in the mess hall in a few.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed happily.

The crew was feasting at the taverns so just the few who stayed on the ship would be eating with Kraglin and Peter, who found the mess hall much more enjoyable without all the boisterous ravagers chewing already grotesque food with their mouths open. He sat with the First Mate and they ate quietly other than the few times Peter asked Kraglin a question and was offered a short, direct response, but Kraglin never ignored him.

“Hey, Kraglin,” Peter said at the end of a yawn as they left the mess hall, “Thanks again f’r’today, I really had a lotta fun.”

“Yeah, kid,” Kraglin grinned and nodded at him, “it was pretty good. Y’look a little wore out. Why don’cha go lay down?”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter agreed as another yawn hit, “Night.”

“Night, Pete,” Kraglin said and the boy walked slowly down the hallway towards his room.

He was exhausted and happier than he could remember being in a long time as Peter closed his door and crawled into his warm bed. Kraglin may’ve been a little gruff and sometimes acted like Peter was a nuisance, but he’d offered to take him out for the day and the boy still couldn’t believe the First Mate had found such a perfect activity. Peter found peaceful sleep as he thought about sliding down the snowy hill and how if he could have a big brother, he’d want it to be Kraglin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short stories are a bit harder to create than chapters of a continuing saga where I can add some fluff here and there to move through, so these are going to update slower than my other story because it takes me longer to create a whole new sketch every time. Please bear with me and know how much I love to hear what you think of each one I write!


	12. What's a Sanatorium?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt response: Peter in the hospital. I got a lot of requests for this so I pushed it to the top of the list =)

“Peter,” Kraglin approached him as the boy was finishing his breakfast, “need y’r’help cleanin’ up a few ships, git t’the hanger when y’r’done.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter nodded, shoving a final bite in his mouth as he stood to clear his tray.

Kraglin had everything ready when the boy walked into the large space and approached the first ship, another M-ship the Ravagers called Frami, most of them preferred it to the rest of the fleet, Peter was the only one who liked the Milano and he was more than okay with that. The Frami was black with dark gray accents and always had the newest parts available, while Peter stole and fabricated what he could when the Milano needed repairs.

“A’right boy,” Kraglin said, “Wanna start at the top?”

“On it,” Peter was already halfway up the scaffold and he carefully climbed onto the top of the ship.

They had a good system, even if Yondu threatened to kill them both every time he caught them, but, with Kraglin directing the stream of water and Peter lathering soap from nose to tail as he moved backwards on the ship, it not only got done faster, even the Captain couldn’t deny his ships having ever been cleaner.

Neither spoke much as they worked, only in relation to what they were doing, and always moved quickly on the top, knowing they’d have to endure another loud reprimand from Yondu if he found them.

Peter scrubbed the middle of the roof and scooted backwards, “Go ahead, Kraglin!”

Water sprayed over the ship, washing the soap bubbles down the sides, leaving a gleaming finish, mostly. A smudge caught Peter’s eye and he sighed, crawling forward on the slick surface.

“Pete!” Kraglin shouted, “What’re y’doin’? It’s all wet there!”

“I missed a spot,” Peter called as he wiped the area clean.

“It ain’t gotta be perfect, kid,” the First Mate scoffed, “Be careful!”

“Just hit it again, alriiiiIIIIIGH!” he’d been pushing backwards carefully, but turned too roughly at Kraglin with his snarky comment and found himself sliding off the slippery top of the Frami, barely able to direct his feet to hit the ground first before he did.

A sickening crack echoed in the hanger and in the same moment Peter met Kraglin’s terrified eyes an unbelievable pain erupted through his right leg. He screamed, uncaring what he sounded like, how pathetic he must look, nothing but the agony stabbing his leg was relevant.

“Peter!” Kraglin was by his side a mere moment after it happened, crouching near him with terror on his face, “Oh, shit kid! Are you? What? Peter?!”

“I-I th-think it-t’s br-o-ken,” he broke into another fit of sobbing at the end of his words, his arms cradled around his leg in protection, but not touching the throbbing extremity.

“Crap,” Kraglin sighed, “Okay, I gotta get Yondu.”

“Kraglin, no!” Peter’s eyes went wide, “He’s gonna be so mad at me!”

“You?!” Kraglin scoffed, “I’m the one who’s s’posed t’keep y’off these things! Capt’n’s told me plen’y’a times ‘n I ain’t listened. You ain’t in trouble, kid, I am. Y’okay f’r’just a minute? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Peter nodded sadly, but he knew Kraglin would be back. He did not, however, believe that Yondu wouldn’t be angry at him. He’d told Peter the next time he caught him on top of one of the ships he was going to skin him alive, which the boy took as a metaphor for an ass tanning he wasn’t likely to forget, whether it was intended as literal or symbolical, Peter wanted to avoid either.

Technically, Yondu hadn’t caught him, but Peter knew that detail wouldn’t matter with the Captain and a swirl of worry added to the immense discomfort he was already in, lying on the floor under the Frami. What a stupid ship. He’d done that a hundred times with Kraglin and hadn’t even come close to falling, but it was fitting to have happened on the pretentious, black craft. He’d never hated from Frami more, wiping tears away with his sleeve, but they kept falling as the pain in his leg refused to subside.

Heavy footsteps in the corridor were quickly masked by the Captain’s shouting. 

“I’ve told you! I’ve told you a _hundred_ _times_ not t’let him up there!” Yondu was definitely at a twelve on his one through ten anger scale.

“I know, Capt’n,” Kraglin pled and a smacking sound was followed by a small yelp, “I’m so sorry!”

“Y’will be when I’m done with ya!” Yondu growled as they hurried into the hanger and the Captain skidded to a halt, crouching beside Peter, Kraglin right behind him, rubbing his ear.

“Hey, boy,” his tone was suddenly soft, “How y’doin’?”

“It hurts,” Peter sniffled pathetically.

“I bet,” Yondu glanced up and back down, “Helluva a fall.”

Peter dropped his gaze and nodded, mumbling pitiably, “I’m sorry.”

“Bet’cha are,” the Captain grinned, “Can y’move y’r’leg at all?”

“It hurts,” Peter shook his head.

“What the hell happened?” Gef walked up behind Kraglin and Yondu with wide eyes on Peter.

“Pete fell off the Frami,” Kraglin muttered.

“I told you boys that was a bad idea,” Gef shook his head.

“If y’didn’t notice, Gef,” Yondu spun around on the Ravager, “I’m here ‘n I don’t need y’r’input!”

“Sorry, Capt’n,” Gef dropped his head with defensive hands, “Of course, I didn’t mean anythin’.”

“Git a ship ready f’r’departure,” the Captain growled, “We’re goin’ t’Xandar.”

“We ain’t far now,” Gef said, “We could just drop the whole Eclect’r-”

“This ain’t a goddamn field trip!” Yondu barked, “I’m takin’ the boy t’the Healers! Now git a ship ready!”

“Yes sir,” Gef stammered, backing away from the fuming Captain.

“Healers?” Peter quietly directed his question at Kraglin.

“They’re gonna get’cha all fixed up, buddy,” the First Mate nodded, his eyes finding the ground again with Yondu glowered at him.

“How could you let him do that?” Yondu’s question was hard, “Again? After how many times I’ve told you no!”

“Capt’n, I swear,” Kraglin tried, “I’m sorry, we didn’t _, I didn’t_ think, I should’a ‘n I didn’t, ‘n I’m prepared t’take whatever punishment y’see fits the crime, sir,” the First Mate’s eyes were squinted tightly as he tried to pull his shoulders back.

Despite Kraglin’s attempt at appearing unintimidated, even welcoming of Yondu’s fury, his knees nearly knocked together he was shaking so hard.

“I oughta give y’the same’s I give him,” Yondu jerked his head at Peter, “seein’s y’listen ‘bout as well as he does.”

Kraglin’s face burned red as he understood the threat and took a small step backward from the Centaurian, but Yondu was in no mood to be disrespected even by the tiny slide of a foot and grabbed the First Mate by the front of his jacket, pulling the thin man into him roughly.

“You ain’t leavin’ my side, boy,” Yondu growled with a nasty smirk.

Kraglin nodded meekly and the Captain released him as Gef approached cautiously.

“The Tunglskin’s ready t’go, Capt’n,” he said, his goggle eyes fixed on his boots.

“Hold position,” Yondu ordered, “We’ll be back soon,” he crouched next to Peter with an attempt at a grin, “A’right, boy, m’gonna have t’move ya. Y’ready?”

Peter nodded, though he was not, and cried out as Yondu cradled him in his strong arms, his leg hanging limply at an awkward angle. Kraglin followed without being told and hurried ahead of them, up the ramp into the waiting craft. Yondu settled Peter on a bunk before climbing the steps to the cockpit.

“Get there quickly,” Yondu ordered, his tone low.

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin’s voice cracked a little as he responded.

“I can’t believe you’d deliberately disobey me, Kraglin,” Yondu growled, but as the turbines kicked in, Peter couldn’t hear any more of the chastisement.

Once they were in the air, passed the forcefield and hurtling through space towards Xandar, Yondu descended the ladder. Peter had subsided to whimpers and sniffling as he laid on the bunk with his leg throbbing in front of him.

“How y’doin’, boy?” Yondu asked, pulling a chair to sit next to the little bed.

“My legs hurts,” Peter whined, “I’m sorry I was stupid.”

“Y’aint stupid,” the Captain shook his head, “but y’did somethin’ stupid.”

Peter expelled a short laugh and nodded, “Yes, sir. It wasn’t Kraglin, I mean, he’s told me not to too ‘n I just don’t listen.”

“Don’t you be tryin’ t’take the fall f’r’him,” Yondu said, then smiled a little at the words, “By the looks a ya, y’can’t handle another right now anyway.”

Peter too grinned a little, but was determined to make him see it wasn’t the First Mate’s fault, Kraglin had said it was a bad idea for him to crawl on top of the ships, yet Peter had convinced him he’d be fine, “But, Yondu, Kraglin didn’t-”

He put up a large blue hand to stop the boy’s protest, “I been the Captain a while, son, I don’t need any help on how t’punish my men, or decidin’ whether they deserve it ‘r not.”

Peter nodded slowly, his stomach twisting. He’d been warned just as many times as Kraglin had, but, because he’d gotten hurt, Yondu was being caring and even gentle to him, while his anger fumed at the First Mate. Peter didn’t think it was fair, though he wasn’t exactly looking to push the Captain for his own punishment, but guilt did swirl in his guy as Yondu again climbed the ladder and his tone changed entirely.

“Remember where the Sanatorium is?” Yondu asked curtly.

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin said quickly.

“Yondu?” Peter called.

“Yeah, Pete?” Yondu said.

“What’s a Sanatorium?” he asked.

“It’s where the Healers are,” Yondu explained, “Think they call ‘em hospitals where y’r’from if memory serves.”

His heart sank at the word ‘hospital’. He would’ve thought the one thing he could’ve avoided by leaving Earth were those awful places. Filthy with germs while the overused chemicals burned in the air and on every surface. They were filled with the worst sounds, constant beeps at different frequencies and occasionally the nurses would yell for each other down the hall, that was usually followed by a long, unending beep in Peter’s experience. Having his Walkman at the hospital had been the only thing that saved Peter from going crazy listening to all those beeps, until of course they were forced off his ears by his Grandfather.

Tears were slipping down Peter’s cheeks and they weren’t caused by the pain in his leg. He hated hospitals. They scared him, but he didn’t want to admit that, he also really didn’t want to go to one.

It was a surprisingly fast trip, Peter felt the Tungleskin descending well before he was ready and his stomach lurched as he realized how close he was to the inevitable. Yondu would not be argued with at the moment, not that he was normally welcoming of a challenge, and Peter tried to calm his nerves, knowing there was no way out.

“A’right, boy,” Yondu said as he descended the ladder after landing, Kraglin right behind him, “let’s git y’fixed up.”

“Y-yondu,” Peter began as pitifully as he could, “I hate hospitals.”

“Yeah,” the Captain nodded understandingly, “I ain’t a fan of ‘em either. So let’s get this done quick, huh?”

Peter nodded sadly at his lap, there was no use. Yondu was taking him to the Xandar Sanatorium. Despite his fear, Peter did really want his leg to stop throbbing.

Kraglin stood behind the Captain, glancing at Peter every few moments and grimacing.

“M’okay, Kraglin,” Peter assured him, “I broke my arm a few years ago jumpin’ off a slide at the park.”

Peter remembered his Grandfather scolding him as he’d approached, having already warned the little boy not to jump, but when he realized that Peter was actually hurt he’d stopped reprimanding him. His Mom had been home, having what everyone referred to as a ‘bad day’, and his Grandfather had taken him to the emergency room for x-rays, leaving with a bright blue cast a few hours later. He was not looking forward to his leg being put in a cast, he remembered how itchy his arm had gotten, pounding at the hard plaster for relief, but his Mom had showed him how to use a kabob stick as a scratching device and it hadn’t been so bad after that.

“C’mon, kid,” Yondu said, carefully picking up Peter, who only inhaled sharply at the pain from his leg being moved.

Kraglin followed, closing the Tungleskin’s hatch after they descended and hurrying to walk a few paces ahead of the Captain. Peter didn’t recognize where they were, it certainly wasn’t the vast lot they’d stopped in on Xandar before, but the flashing red lights on top of the tall building they were walking towards was clearly a hospital. Peter didn’t mean to, but he threw his arms around Yondu’s neck and buried his face in the collar of the Captain’s leather jacket.

“Y’r’gonna be fine, Pete,” Yondu patted his back.

The huge doors dissolved as they approached, reforming after they passed through into the large white room. Peter’s stomach twisted harder at the overly clean space, trying to focus on the pain in his leg instead of his last memory of being in a hospital.

“Can I help you?” the pink woman behind a large metallic desk stood up, only barely able to see over the shiny surface.

“The boy broke his leg,” Yondu said in a no-nonsense tone, “need t’see somebody right away.”

“Of course,” she nodded, putting a hand to her ear and speaking without looking at them, “This is dispatch, I have a child with a broken leg. Do we have a Healer available? – I’m not sure,” she looked at Yondu, “Is he Sirian?”

“Terran,” Yondu said gruffly and her violet eyes widened in surprise.

“He’s Terran,” she said with her hand on her ear again, “Yes, very. – I hope so too. – Hold on,” she looked at Yondu again, “Your relation to the child?”

“He’s, uh,” the Captain stammered a moment, “Adopted refuge.”

“Y’r’his father?” she asked.

“Sure,” Yondu nodded and the pink woman gave him a sideways glance before shrugging, Peter felt his cheeks burning as he couldn’t help a small smile at the Centaurian, but he was focused on the woman behind the desk.

“Your name?” she asked with her eyes on a screen.

“Yondu Udonta,” the Captain said curtly.

The pink woman nodded, swiping the screen as she put her hand to her ear again, “Just adding the guardian to the system. Where are you? - Two twenty? – Alright, I’ll send them up,” she released her ear and forced a grin at the Ravagers, “The Healer Gorlomi is available now in room two-twenty,” she pressed a button and a small door slid open in front of her desk, a hovering chair slid out, “Take the lift to the second floor, you’ll see signs when you get there.”

“Much obliged,” Yondu nodded and carefully settled Peter onto the seat, jerking his head at Kraglin to follow and the chair jerked forward, moving beside the Captain towards the elevators.

Kraglin kept his head down, but Peter tried to catch his attention, giving him an encouraging grin when he finally did, but the First Mate shook his head defeatedly, looking back at his boots. Yondu wasn’t helping with the scowls he repeatedly sent Kraglin’s way or the threats he occasionally threw at the already well chastised Ravager.

“When we get back,” Yondu growled, “y’r’ass is mine.”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded, but Peter didn’t miss his shoulders shivering with fear.

As Yondu walked down the bright corridor, the chair automatically followed with Kraglin trailing behind. The hall was mostly empty, with many doors, though the couple people he saw made Peter incline his head. The hallway was well lit, but the two humanoids seemed to be reflecting the brightness off their skin until the group neared them and Peter realized they were glowing.

“Is this the Terran?” one of them asked excitedly, glancing from Peter to Yondu.

“Aye,” Yondu nodded, “You Gorlomi?”

“That I am,” the glowing man bowed a bit, extending his arm to an open door, “Please.”

Yondu jerked his head for Kraglin to enter and the chair followed behind the First Mate into the small exam room. The door shut as Yondu and the Healer walked in, the glowing man walked over to Peter and smiled as he pressed a button on the chair and Peter gasped, gripping the armrests as the hovering seat rose a bit in the air, extending and reclining into an exam table at perfect height for the Healer.

“You must be Yondu Udonta,” the Healer said and the Centaurian nodded, Gorlomi turned to the nervous boy in the chair, “And what’s your name?”

“Pe-ter,” he stammered.

“So, what happened, Peter?” Gorlomi asked kindly.

“I, uh, fell,” Peter answered quietly.

“Heck of a fall,” Gorlomi commented with a smile, glancing at Yondu and Kraglin, “Were either of you there?”

Yondu expelled an angry scoff and Kraglin hung his head before mumbling in response, “I was, we was washin’ one’a the ships ‘n he slipped off the roof.”

“Oh,” the Healer’s eyebrows jumped, “Well that is a heck of a fall. Let’s take a look shall we?”

Peter’s arms found comfort wrapping around his chest as Gorlomi pulled a strange, silver wand from his coat pocket. As the Healer moved towards the boy with the unfamiliar object, Peter shrank back, turning to grab Kraglin’s arm and held him tight, crying from fear and the pain in his leg after twisting himself around.

“This won’t hurt,” the Healer assured him, but Peter hardly heard the man as he clung to the First Mate, trying to pull himself off the table.

“C’mon, Pete,” Kraglin said gently, patting the boy on the back, “Y’r’okay. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt’cha.”

Peter lifted his head and looked at Kraglin with teary eyes, “Promise?”

“Think I’d let anybody hurt’cha?” the First Mate grinned and Peter did too, shaking his head in response, “Can y’let him check y’out?” Peter nodded, “A’right, good. Need t’get my best helper back on his feet.”

“Oh you ain’t gettin’ help f’r’a while, boy,” Yondu growled and the brief grin on Kraglin’s face disappeared, Peter scowled at the Captain, but his gaze dropped at the raised eyebrow he received in response.

The Healer ignored the interaction, maintaining a pleasant expression as he waved the silver wand around Peter’s injured leg. Gorlomi pressed a button on the handle, pointing the wand at the wall and a projection appeared on the clean white paint. Peter stared at the wand, following the ray of light to an x-ray-like picture of his bone and the clean break in the middle of his shin.

“Well, there we are,” the Healer nodded, “Definitely broken. Let’s get a brace on you boy, should be all fixed up in a few days.”

“Days?” Peter asked in shock, remembering the weeks he’d had to wear his arm cast.

“We do have an immediate repair option,” Gorlomi looked at Yondu, “but it’s rather pricey, most don’t mind the few days of mild rest for the less expensive choice.”

“Brace’ll be fine,” Yondu grumbled, “Few days laid up might be good f’r’him.”

Peter wanted to say something, but he was still surprised that the longer option would only take a few days to heal his leg and decided to ignore the Captain’s comment.

“I’ll be right back,” Gorlomi said with a smile and left the room.

“Kraglin,” Yondu barked, making the First Mate jump, “Y’r’bein’ promoted t’nurse maid ‘til he’s back on his feet. He needs somethin’, anything, you better be on it.”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded.

“Udonta?” the Healer peeked back in the room and Yondu turned to him, “We need you to complete some paperwork. Would you like me to bring it in?”

“No,” Yondu shook his head, following the man into the hallway.

“M’sorry,” Peter mumbled when the door had shut.

“F’r’what?” Kraglin scoffed.

“Y’gotta take care’a me while I’m all broken,” Peter shrugged.

“Awe, kid,” Kraglin chuckled, tousling the boy’s hair, “I was gonna do that anyway.”

It was only a few minutes before Yondu and Gorlomi returned, the latter carrying a rather terrifying metal contraption. Peter shrank into Kraglin, who put a protective arm around the boy’s shoulders, giving him a gentle, encouraging shake.

“Okay, Peter,” the Healer smiled, setting the metal brace on the counter as he stopped by Peter’s feet, “I have to reset your bone, it’s gonna hurt for a minute,” the boy nodded that he understood, twisting his fingers in the fabric of Kraglin’s shirt.

Yondu appeared on his other side and put a hand on Peter’s arm, but he quickly twisted it around, grabbing the large blue hand tightly with his own and feeling Yondu squeeze his fingers reassuringly. Peter took a deep breath as Gorlomi eased his boot off, inhaling sharply as the Healer had to tug a bit to relieve his foot of the heavy shoe, and whimpered as the man gave him a comforting smile.

“No,” Peter shook his head, trying to twist his leg away from the Healer, “No, no, no, no!” he looked pleadingly at Yondu, “NO! Stop!” turning to Kraglin with damp eyes, “Please don’t let him.”

The First Mate looked like someone punched him in the gut and the Captain turned Peter by the chin to look at him.

“Boy,” Yondu said sternly, “Get y’rself t’gether now. Y’ain’t a baby, stop actin’ like it.”

Peter bit his lips on the sob that tried to escape. He wasn’t a baby, but his chest was aching with fear and anxiety. Yondu released his chin and Peter dropped his head with a quiet snivel, but he turned to Kraglin at the light tap on his shoulder.

“Buddy,” Kraglin said softly, using the nickname he reserved for when he was really proud of Peter, or, evidently, when he was badly hurt, “It’s only gonna hurt f’r’a second. It hurts already, right?” Peter nodded, “Well then let him make it hurt more f’r’one second ‘n then it won’t hurt no more.”

Returning the small grin Kraglin gave him, Peter nodded, looking at Gorlomi, who’s smile still hadn’t faltered, “Okay.”

“Okay?” the Healer asked sweetly and the boy nodded, holding in a deep breath and screeching a second later as his leg was pulled into position.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kraglin rubbed his back, “Y’r’all good.”

He was. The pain in his leg slowly subsided to the dull throbbing it had been as Gorlomi began fitting the brace, turning knobs and simply removing a few pieces all together until it was the correct size to fit from Peter’s knee to his ankle.

“Now,” Gorlomi snapped the last pieces together, “You’ll be able to walk normally, but you still need to take it easy until it’s healed. I recommend keeping it on at least a week to be safe, Terran biology isn’t incredibly complex so it shouldn’t take longer than a few days, but better to be safe than sorry.”

“Uh, sir?” Peter began timidly, but the Healer smiled kindly, waiting for the boy to continue, “I kinda wanna change these pants at some point.”

Gorlomi giggled, “Of course, Peter, you simply take it off if you need to. It is completely liquid proof so keep it on as much as possible, but those few times you must remove it, just don’t put any pressure on your leg,” he looked at the boy with what Peter assumed was his attempt at a stern look, “Otherwise one of these two might have to reset it and we certainly don’t want that. Do we?”

Peter shook his head, that was not something he wanted to go through again, certainly not at the hands of Yondu. It was remarkable to him that the brace was removable and would heal his leg in a matter of days, but he found the concept making a bit more sense as Gorlomi pressed one of the sides and a low light flickered from the thin beams facing his leg.

“We all set, doc?” Yondu asked.

“You are,” the Healer nodded, pressing a button on the exam table and Peter found himself lowering to the ground and sitting up straight again as it returned to a hovering chair, “I suggest you stay off the tops of ships, young man.”

“Oh, trust me,” Yondu scoffed, eyeing Kraglin, “That ain’t gonna be a problem.”

The chair followed Yondu’s departure towards the lifts and Kraglin walked beside Peter, grinning at the funny face the boy made at the Captain’s back.

When they reached the entrance, the same pink woman was behind the desk, kindly instructing them to leave the chair at the door and waved as they left, though none of them returned the gesture. Yondu gently pulled Peter to his feet with a firm grip under the boy’s arm and assessed him with concern.

“Y’okay?” the Captain asked, “I’ll give y’a lift back t’the ship.”

“I’m fine,” Peter assured him, it was important he proved to Yondu he wasn’t a baby and babies got carried.

The first bit of pressure he put on his leg surprised him. Peter didn’t feel a thing. He put a little more pressure on it until he’d taken his other foot entirely off the ground, but a quick shake brought it back down.

“What’re you doin’ boy?!” Yondu held him by the arm a little roughly, “Lookin’ t’lose the damn thing? What use y’gonna be with one leg, huh?”

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled.

“Use y’r’dang head, kid,” Yondu pulled him to walk with him towards the Tungleskin, much slower than the Captain normally walked and Peter rolled his eyes.

“Really, Yondu,” he insisted, “I can’t feel anything, it doesn’t hurt.”

“It’s still healin’, boy,” the Captain reminded him, “Gotta give it time, that brace ain’t doin’ nothin’ but takin’ the strain off that bone while mendin’ it up. It might be waterproof, but it ain’t dumb kid crap proof.”

Peter glanced at Kraglin who stuck his tongue out at Yondu while he wasn’t looking and the boy put a hand over his mouth as he giggled.

“What?” Yondu turned at him and his eyes shifted between Peter and Kraglin.

“Nothin’,” Peter shook his head, wiping his nose dramatically, “just a sneeze.”

Yondu furrowed his brow at him, but rolled his eyes and looked away. Peter and Kraglin shared a quick wink before the Captain turned at them again, finding their expressions completely neutral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Your reviews feed this! I'm still taking prompt ideas, all the ideas, any ideas, have at it =)


	13. Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I kinda suck, but I did my best, I didn't want to deviate too much from what I've created here, PLUS I wanted to set the stage a little more with Kraglin because I think my readers are all over on his age, I knew he was a young man but I've narrowed it down and given him a little background. For those of you wanting the Yondu/Kraglin spanking scene you gave me an idea, it just doesn't fit here, while I did add some small details for your enjoyment, I had the idea of a one-shot spanking only series, maybe starting with those two since I feel I owe it to you, but I've had an idea for Peeta/Katniss in my head, Dean/Sam, a few Mad Men characters, even a Disney princess or two lol just wondered what anyone thinks of that, because I love writing this and Morgan's story but they aren't super spank heavy  
> Oh this chapter follows right from the last because it was requested AND starts our journey into two other prompt requests - Peter in school (again I had to find a realistic way to do that) and Peter's birthday

With the assistance of the leg brace, Peter had absolutely no trouble walking or doing most of his normal activities, however, that didn’t keep Yondu from forcing him to stay in his bed, his room at least, hopping back in his bed every time he heard the sound of footsteps approaching his door. Kraglin was the most frequent visitor, checking on Peter several times after they’d returned, once he and the Captain had had a private conversation behind the heavy door of Yondu’s quarters.

Peter had asked Kraglin if he was alright, seeing a flush of color in the man’s face when he’d first entered his room, but the First Mate had quickly assured him he was.

“Did he whip you?” Peter asked.

“No!” Kraglin answered indignantly, shaking his head at the floor, “No, kid, he, uh, told me off, rightfully, ‘n I got a lotta extra duties ‘round here f’r’a while, but, uh, I’m not little like you, y’know, I got six cycles behind me.”

“What?” Peter inclined his head.

“What?” Kraglin inclined his in return.

“You’ve got six what?” Peter asked.

“Cycles,” Kraglin said, “my age.”

“Y’r’six?” Peter couldn’t help giggling with amusement.

“Comin’ from someone who ain’t even completed his third,” the First Mate scoffed.

“I’m at least ten!” Peter argued.

“Terran years,” Kraglin added.

“So what?” Peter shrugged hard, “What’s the difference.”

“Considerin’ how much taller I am than you ‘n my need t’shave every few days,” Kraglin smirked, “I’d say a lot.”

Peter blinked slowly at him with a blank expression, “So, how old are you in Terran years?”

“There’re ‘bout three in a cycle,” Kraglin furrowed his brow as he thought aloud, “Three f’r’every cycle, pro’lly hafta figure out the time’a year,” as he trailed off, Peter laughed.

“Y’r’eighteen,” he told Kraglin with a smile, “Y’r’only like eight years older than me!”

“What’s goin’ on here, boys?” Yondu pushed open the cracked door and Kraglin snapped to attention, Peter thought he saw the First Mate wince, but Yondu had a relaxed expression and waved his hand to put the man at ease, which Kraglin took advantage of and quickly sidestepped.

“I just found out Kraglin’s a kid,” Peter laughed.

“I am not!” Kraglin barked.

“Y’r’right,” Peter nodded, holding in his amusement only until the end of his words, “Technically you could vote ‘n stuff.”

“Brat!” Kraglin took a step towards the boy clutching his pillow and rolling on his bed laughing, but Yondu’s firm hand on his shoulder stopped the First Mate’s progress.

“Y’know why Kraglin’s my number one, boy?” the Captain asked in a low, light tone and Peter’s giggling ceased immediately, shaking his head while keeping his eyes on Yondu, “It’s because he’s smart, Xandarian, he’s born smart, quick, found ‘im when I was there visitin’ the Broker, what’s it been now?” he looked at Kraglin, “’Bout three cycles ago?” he returned his red eyes to the boy, “He was ‘bout y’r’size, already a hell’uv’a thief on his own. Begged t’join, didn’t’cha?” he shook Kraglin by the shoulders with a wide smile, “Didn’t give me much of an option when he stowed away ‘fore we left,” Yondu threw his head back with a quick laugh, “We was half way ‘cross the galaxy ‘fore I figured out you was here.”

Kraglin smiled at the Captain’s fondness for the memory, but Peter was sure he saw the First Mate’s ears turning pink. Yondu either didn’t notice or didn’t care, continuing his story to Peter, who listened intently.

“I ain’t never had anyone on my ship who could fix somethin’ so fast,” he said proudly, but raised his eyebrow as he added, “An’ ‘til you came along beggin’ him t’break the rules with ya I ain’t never had him defy me,” Kraglin definitely blushed at that, but so did Peter, Yondu smirked, “Kraglin’s been my First Mate ‘bout a cycle now, youngest in Ravager history, ‘n earned every bit’a that title. I don’t know what the kids on Terra his age ‘r doin’, votin’ is it? Well he’s done a hell’uv’a lot more important things than whatever that is.”

Peter’s gaze dropped as he nodded in agreement, “Sorry, Kraglin.”

“S’okay, Pete,” Kraglin mumbled, but he looked a little proud from the praise he’d just received.

“This don’t mean either’a you is off my shit list,” Yondu warned, setting both of them with a stern gaze before leaving the room.

“Wow,” Peter said in awe.

“What?” Kraglin furrowed his brow.

“Y’r’the youngest Ravager First Mate in history,” he said excitedly.

“Yeah,” Kraglin scoffed, “Only ‘cause Capt’n didn’t trust anybody else t’do things how he wanted, he had a First Mate, Akkeri, sort’a a hand me down from Stakkar, never really listened t’the Capt’n, always thought he knew better. Well, that got ‘im an arrow through the skull one day when Capt’n had enough, ‘n he chose me, said he could teach me how he wanted things done ‘n that way he’d always know they were right.”

“That’s smart,” Peter said.

“Guess,” Kraglin shrugged, “Crew wasn’t happy ‘bout it at first, said I was too young,” he chuckled to himself, “but then I took down Tazerface one day when he was botherin’ me, ‘n well, ain’t no body said a word since. Least not that I heard.”

“You took down Tazerface?” Peter asked with astonishment.

“He’s not that scary,” the First Mate smirked, “but, f’r’future reference, not that I should tell ya, but he’s got a weak left knee. One good shot there, he’s down.”

Peter smiled at the information, storing it for a later date if, and when, it became necessary. He was still very curious about the beginning of their conversation, however, and steering his question back to the original topic.

“Kraglin, can we figure out what, like, year ‘n stuff it is on Terra?” he asked timidly.

Kraglin furrowed his brow in thought again before nodding slowly, “Y’know, I think we can. C’mon,” and the First Mate took a few hurried steps into the hall as Peter swung his legs off the bed, “Stop. Wait,” Kraglin leaned in the doorway, shaking his head, “Just stay here, I’ll bring e’rything we need.”

Peter crossed his arms and sat back in a pout, but Kraglin ignored it and left. He was sick of lying in bed! Pushing himself off his pillow and swinging his legs off the bed again, but paused just before his toes touched the floor.

“No, Pete!” Kraglin’s voice called and Peter sighed, pulling himself back to his pillow while rolling his eyes and muttering in himself.

Kraglin didn’t come back right away, in fact, Peter waited and waited, listening to nearly his entire cassette before seeing Yondu pass his open door.

“Yondu!” Peter called, tearing his headphones from his ears.

“Yeah, boy?” The Captain leaned in the doorway with a hurried expression.

“Where’s Kraglin?” he asked.

“Workin’,” Yondu told him flatly.

“But we were,” Peter began but stopped himself, “Will he be done soon?”

“Not likely,” Yondu scoffed, “he’s washin’ the fleet.”

“All of ‘em?” Peter’s eyes widened as the Captain nodded, “By himself?”

“Kraglin’s learnin’ what happens when y’disobey me,” Yondu raised an eyebrow at Peter.

“Couldn’t you’ve just whooped him?” Peter muttered.

“What makes y’think I didn’t?” Yondu smirked, but threw his head back laughing when the boy’s eyebrows jumped in shock.

“You did?” he asked quietly, feeling bad for Kraglin, sure whatever the First Mate had endured had to have been far worse than anything he’d received from the Captain.

“Course not,” Yondu chuckled with a funny grin, “Now what were you two doin’ this time?”

“Well,” Peter began, “Kraglin said we could prob’ly figure out what like year ‘n stuff it is on Earth, er, Terra.”

“Oh,” Yondu said with surprise, “What’cha wanna do that for?”

“I, uh,” Peter blushed, “I wanna know if I’m ten yet, I think I am, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” Yondu nodded and grinned understandingly, “Course, well, sure, I’ll check where Kraglin’s at, if he’s made some progress I’ll let ‘im come help y’with that in a little bit.”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled, “Uh, Yondu?”

“Yeah, Pete?” the Captain had nearly left the doorway, but stopped to look at the boy in his bed.

“Would you, I mean, if you want to, like, help?” Peter asked timidly.

Yondu’s grin widened a little, “Sure, kid, I can help.”

“Cool,” Peter sat back on his pillows and put his headphones back on as the Captain left the doorway.

He didn’t have to wait too long before Kraglin and Yondu returned together, the First Mate’s hair damp from washing the fleet, but looked relieved to have been taken off the chore temporarily. The Captain carried a large book and a tablet Peter had seen him use to set navigation coordinates, the Captain turned the desk chair as Kraglin sat on the boy’s bed. Peter watched him, looking for any signs of discomfort, but if Yondu had punished Kraglin the way he did Peter, the First Mate was extremely good at not showing it.

“A’right, so,” Yondu began tossing the book at Kraglin, who fumbled with it a moment before securing it between his unsuspecting hands, “We don’t necessarily need that, but it’s helpful sometimes.”

Peter scooted forward to eye the book Kraglin was holding, but the language, as usual, was completely foreign to him, “What is it?”

“The Biology, Culture and Environment of Terra,” Kraglin pointed to the symbols on the cover, “Its written in Xandarian. Remember I showed y’those books with the little pictures?”

“The comics?” Peter asked excitedly, that’s what they’d reminded him of when Kraglin gave him the little magazines.

“Whatever,” Kraglin scoffed lightly, “Y’learnin’ anything from them?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, and it was true, he had learned a contextually understanding for Xandarian from the pictures and accompanying symbols.

“We should talk ‘bout that too,” Yondu interjected and both occupants on the bed stared at him, “Well y’ain’t stupid kid, I ain’t gonna let’cha be either, gotta start some navigation trainin’, languages, you two pretty much got mechanics covered already, but y’ought’a start figurin’ out how t’get places, _and_ the rules ‘n laws’a those places.”

Peter had progressively began pouting as Yondu spoke, glancing at Kraglin for help, but the First Mate just shrugged at him in a gesture that told him he thought the Captain was right.

“So, what?” Peter asked, “I gotta go t’school ‘r somethin’?”

“What’s that?” Yondu asked.

“Nevermind,” Peter muttered, not wanting to give him any ideas.

“You’ll do some navigatin’ with me,” Yondu said, “usual mechanics with Kraglin, we’ll both help y’with laguages, Xandarian, Skrullish, Kreedan, the important ones.”

“Great,” Peter said unenthusiastically.

“Won’t be so bad,” Kraglin smirked, “Be easier t’talk t’girls next time we stop on Xandar.”

“So?” Peter scoffed and the Captain and First Mate chuckled, “What?”

“Nothin’ y’gotta worry ‘bout yet,” Yondu said, pressing the tablet and a hologram appeared above it full of tiny translucent planets and stars, “Alright, so we’re here,” Yondu’s fingers pinched and swiped as the image turned, contracted and expanded before him, “Terra, terra, Milky Way, here we go, and,” he poked at the hologram and Peter felt a tightness in his stomach as a little glowing Earth revolved before him, his nose tingled with the threat of tears, but he sniffled them back inconspicuously, returning his attention to Yondu’s words, “Core temp sixty skap, Northern hemisphere currently in tundra revolve station, that’s where we picked y’up.”

Peter shook his head, “What does that mean?”

“Think y’all call it winter,” Yondu glanced questioningly at him and Peter nodded.

“Can y’tell what year it is?” Peter asked.

“Based on the last time we was there,” Yondu nodded, “Terra’s revolved it’s sun almost two times since,” he inclined his head as a smile grew on the boy’s face, “What?”

“My birthday’s in winter,” Peter said, glancing at both of them for a reaction, continuing when he didn’t get one, “I’m ten!”

“Okay,” Kraglin said in an unsure tone.

“I thought I was,” Peter continued, “but I am, I have t’be!”

“Is that a big deal ‘r somethin’?” Yondu asked and Peter’s heart sank, sitting back and shrugging as he shook his head.

“Course it is,” Kraglin said, nodding at the Captain who quickly followed suit, “What, uh, what d’ya usually do f’r’that?”

“It only happens once,” Peter huffed a bit.

“So, uh,” Yondu tried, “What’d’ya wanna do?”

“Can we make cake?” Peter asked and saw Kraglin and Yondu stare at each other in confusion, “Never mind.”

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” Yondu said, “Somethin’ at least. So, uh, ten, huh?”

“Double digits,” Peter sat up a little proudly.

“And you said I’m how old in Terran years?” Kraglin asked.

“Eighteen,” Peter said.

“Is that cool?” Kraglin asked.

“Very cool,” Peter assured him and the First Mate grinned.

“Kraglin,” Yondu said, “Why don’t you two brainstorm ‘n search through that book, see if there’s anything helpful ‘bout birthdays, I’ll ask Matbua if he’s ever heard of, cake.”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin said, standing as his commander did and sitting down again as he left the room, biting his lips a little as he did.

Peter was pretty sure Kraglin had gotten it good for letting him climb on top of the Frami and subsequently breaking his leg, but he wasn’t going to bring it up again, he didn’t want to embarrass Kraglin if he had gotten taken to task by Yondu, though he thought if that was the case, it was unfair the First Mate had to do extra duties as well. The whole fleet was a lot to wash for one person.

“Okay,” Kraglin opened the book and Peter was fascinated immediately by the pictures, diagrams and illustrations on each page, even if the language was unreadable, “Birthdays,” he said to himself and flipped through a few pages, eventually skipping an entire section before flipping individually again, “Okay, here, oh, so it’s a celebration’a when you were born.”

“Yeah,” Peter scoffed, “What’d y’think?”

“Wasn’t sure,” Kraglin smirked, “Not somethin’ I’ve ever done.”

“Oh,” Peter felt bad, “Well, when’s y’r’birthday?”

“I dunno,” Kraglin shrugged.

“What?” Peter asked almost angrily.

“What?” Kraglin looked worried.

“You don’t know y’r’birthday?” Peter shook his head.

“Kid,” Kraglin chuckled, “I didn’t even know my parents. Trust me, I ain’t missin’ out, nobody I know’s ever celebrated a birthday. Be cool t’do it f’r’you though, have some fun.”

“Yeah?” Peter smiled.

“Sure, kid,” Kraglin nodded, returning his attention to the book, “Got some traditions in here, that cake y’mentioned. Candles? Like, oh, well that’s kinda cool. Does the wish come true?”

“Naw,” Peter shook his head, the last few birthday cakes he’d wished on had been a dire prayer for his Mom to be alright, clearly they didn’t work.

“Awe well,” Kraglin shrugged, “Presents, nice, I’ll hafta think ‘bout that.”

“You don’t hafta get me anything,” Peter blushed.

“What!” Kraglin laughed, pointing at the page with a wicked grin, “Terran’s man, hey Pete, how ‘bout a birthday spankin’?” Peter’s eyes went wide as heat rushed to his cheeks and the First Mate laughed, “Bet Capt’n wouldn’t argue givin’ y’one’a those.”

“Shut up!” Peter yelled, throwing a pillow at Kraglin, who was still chuckling.

“Be nice,” he warned jokingly, “or I’ll give him the idea.”

“Don’t!” Peter yelled.

“Relax,” Kraglin shook his head as his laughter subsided, “says they’re a joke, I won’t say anythin’ just relax, _spaz_.”

Peter couldn’t help giggling at Kraglin’s use of his own insult against him, and he was being a bit of a spaz.

The two sat for a little while, discussing ideas for Peter’s birthday and agreeing they’d celebrate as soon as his leg brace was off and he could enjoy it, but Yondu returned with an order for Kraglin to finish with the fleets.

“Y’had more than a break,” he said gruffly as the First Mate left without a word of protest.

“Why y’gotta be so hard on him?” Peter crossed his arms at Yondu.

“Same reason I’m gonna be tougher on you,” Yondu growled, “Y’r’both worth it,” Peter looked down at the words, feeling strangely chastised and praised at the same time, “How’s the leg?”

“Fine,” Peter shrugged.

“I know y’hate bein’ cooped up,” the Captain said, “but it’ll heal faster y’lay off it.”

Peter nodded, “I know.”

“Then keep bein’ a good boy,” Yondu smiled, “Or I’ll hafta turn y’r’birthday spankin’ into a real one when y’r’better.”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he stammered at the Captain, “K-kraglin wasn’t- he said he wouldn’t!”

Yondu chuckled, “That’s my book, boy.”

Peter grumbled at him as he left, wondering if Yondu was serious about the birthday spanking, though it didn’t deter him from wanting to celebrate his birthday, impatiently waiting for Kraglin to return so they could continue planning ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOVE YOUR REVIEWS THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY AND I HAVE TO GO TO WORK NOW SO PLEASE GIVE ME SOMETHING TO SMILE ABOUT LOL


	14. Birthday Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not trying to make these chapters connect as much as the last one and this one do, but I know people wanted more on Peter's birthday- I'm also introducing the beginnings of these "lessons" Yondu's insisting on. I've had requests from a few to send Peter to school or some sort of approved school program, but I'm working this in a way I think is realistic to the story and I just don't see Yondu giving a shit about multiplication tables unless they relate to real-world events, so the lessons plot line will continue to filter into these shorts, but don't expect it to be school-like

Peter wanted to focus on his birthday plans, but Yondu had set the boy to task on his tablet in a language program. He wasn’t thrilled about it and would’ve rather found the holographic map Yondu had showed him earlier, but the Captain had locked him into the single application and handed him a small book in Xandarian. It was strange, but Peter felt himself absorbing the information without hardly paying attention, skimming through the little book and suddenly finding a few familiar words, then more. It was a simple book. Short stories about a boy on Xandar who always seemed to find his way into interesting situations, Peter liked him, he was a troublemaker. Still, he lost interest quickly and tossed the book aside, shuffling through his nightstand drawers for the comics Kraglin had gotten him.

He could read them! Not just a few words here or there, all of them made sense and the pictures accompanied the stories to assist with his contextual understanding of some words having several different meanings. English had that problem, Peter wasn’t particularly a fan of the grammar and punctuation rules his teachers had forced him to learn. Glad no one was expecting him to write an essay in Xandarian or Kreedan, Peter started reciting the comics aloud, hoping he’d be fluent by their next stop on Xandar.

The tablet stopped at his words and then suddenly answered in a conversational tone. Peter furrowed his brow at the device on his bed, but experimentally spoke another sentence in Xandarian, thrilled when it spoke again. He giggled and asked the tablet if it was an artificial intelligence system with the goal of taking over all technology after learning everything about its operators. That seemed to confuse the program and it was well over several seconds before Peter got a response, a very simple, Xandarian, “No.”

“Hey, Pete,” Kraglin entered after a quick knock to see the boy sitting on his bed, bum leg outstretched, laughing absolutely madly at the tablet in his hands, “What’cha doin’?”

He smiled at the First Mate, pressing a finger to the light screen to pause the program, and asked how Kraglin was doing in well-rehearsed Xandarian. Peter had never seen Kraglin smile so wide, his eyes full of excitement at the boy’s new skill and responded that he was very impressed how quickly Peter picked up on the language. The younger remarked that it was easy, he was barely trying, and the older explained that the program was built for young minds to essentially flood their subconscious with the information. Basically, the less he paid attention to it, the more he learned. Peter wished all school had been like that, grinning at the device in his hands.

“So,” Kraglin said, “Capt’n says we can do a little somethin’ for y’r’birthday tomorrow, s’long as y’r’leg’s ready t’get outta this,” he tapped the brace illuminating Peter’s injured extremity.

“Take it off now!” Peter moaned, “I’m fine, seriously, look,” he turned his leg and pointed to a small screen on the back, “It’s not red anymore, it’s blue, I’m fine.”

“Looks like a weird green t’me,” Kraglin said.

“It was yellow,” Peter admitted, turning his leg straight again, “but I’ve been checkin’ and it’s definitely blue.”

“It’s _kinda blue_ ,” Kraglin corrected, “but it’ll definitely be blue tomorrow. Just relax, kid. Ain’t Capt’n given y’enough t’do?”

“I’m bored,” Peter collapsed onto his pillow, letting the tablet fall beside him on the bed, “I wanna move! You gotta need some help with the ships, right? Washin’ ‘em ‘r some-” he let his words trail off at the raised eyebrow stare Kraglin gave him.

“Lucky if I ever let’cha help me wash ‘em from the ground,” the First Mate shook his head, “I ain’t gettin’ my ass busted over that again.”

“I knew it!” Peter exclaimed, pointing a finger at Kraglin as he smiled.

“Shut up,” Kraglin grumbled, pushing Peter by the head back onto his pillow.

Peter didn’t continue, he didn’t want to embarrass the First Mate and Kraglin still had an amused expression, so he just grinned at him for a moment. Plus, he didn’t have a lot of room to talk, Peter was pretty sure that in the near decade Kraglin had been on the Eclector he’d earned fewer punishments from Yondu than Peter had in his couple years. The boy just didn’t know when to quit sometimes, but at least he’d learned not to challenge the Captain in front of his men after earning his second spanking in front of the crew only a few weeks after the first. It hadn’t been anywhere near as thorough as when he’d used his blaster on Obio, but Yondu had been in his driver’s seat, making it all too easy to snag the petulant brat over his knee and administer a dozen sharp swats over his black pants. He’d stood Peter up amid the sniggering around them and asked the boy if he was done or needed a trip into the Captain’s quarters, of course Peter promised he was done and sat quietly behind Yondu until he was told he could leave. Kraglin had stepped in, asking the Captain if Peter could assist him with an exhaust malfunction he couldn’t quite get to, and Yondu had agreed, but it turned out Kraglin didn’t really need a lot of help, though Peter was glad to be out of the command room. Yes, the First Mate was definitely smarter about handling the Captain than Peter was or could probably ever hope to be.

“So, what’re we doin’ for my birthday?” Peter asked leadingly.

Kraglin grinned mysteriously, “Gonna hafta see, won’t’cha?”

“Krag-lin,” Peter whined.

“Pe-ter,” Kraglin mocked.

“Boys,” Yondu stepped into the open doorway, regarding them with a small nod before focusing on the First Mate, “Kraglin, don’t be botherin’ him, he’s learnin’. Ain’t you gotta replenish the ammunition on the Rytter after the little heist fiasco?”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded, but Peter held his arm to keep the First Mate from standing.

“He’s helpin’ me,” Peter said earnestly to Yondu, not wanting to lose his companion, he’d been insanely bored and lonely for days in his room.

“We were, uh, talkin’,” the First Mate stammered, “In Xandarian, I heard him talkin’ with that tablet ‘n came in t’see what he was doin’, ‘n we started talkin’.”

“Then keep it Xandarian,” Yondu said firmly, “You can take a break, I’ll have Gef do it, but if I walk by ‘n don’t hear y’speakin’ the Nova Corp’s tongue y’r’both done.”

“Yes, sir,” the two on the bed answered in sync.

“Yondu,” Peter stopped the Captain as he turned to leave, “What’re we doin’ f’r’my birthday?”

Yondu scoffed lightly, “That, yeah, well, I got a little somethin’ in mind. Guess you’ll hafta see, won’t’cha?”

Kraglin gave him a smug grin as Yondu left and Peter responded by shoving him, though he succeeded more in pushing himself back than in actually making Kraglin budge. The First Mate was wiry, sure, but he was strong.

“Thanks,” Kraglin mumbled.

“For what?” Peter inclined his head.

“Gettin’ me outta that,” the First Mate jerked his head at the hallway, “He’s had me workin’ like crazy since, well, y’know,” he nodded at Peter’s leg.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Peter grumbled sadly.

“Don’t be,” Kraglin shook his head, “I knew y’weren’t s’posed t’do it ‘n let’cha do it anyway, it was my fault.”

“No it wasn’t,” Peter shook his head.

“A’right, it was y’r’fault,” Kraglin chuckled, “but I’m s’posed t’know better. I’m older ‘n the First Mate ‘n all.”

“I’m just glad it was you there,” Peter said.

“Why’s that?” Kraglin cocked his head.

“Well ‘cause Tazerface ‘r Narblik would’a just let me lay there,” Peter laughed.

Kraglin laughed too as he nodded, “Maybe just a minute.”

“Boys!” Yondu’s voice barked from the hall, but he didn’t reappear, “I’m not hearing Xandarian!”

The both scrambled with the magazines and books on the bed, Peter heard Kraglin mutter a few clearly Xandarian words under his breath, though they weren’t ones he’d become familiar with from the tablet or magazines.

* * *

Peter was bouncing on his bed, waiting for someone to come in and take the stupid brace off his leg. The light was undoubtedly blue. It was hard to sleep, having to keep a pillow between his legs so his other didn’t knock into the heavy contraption, the inside of his left knee was already bruised from bumping into it so much. Finally, a quick knock on his door immediately preceded Yondu walking into his room and Peter grinned, tapping on the brace excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” the Captain rolled his eyes on sat on the edge of Peter’s bed, “Y’know you’ve been less of a pain in my ass this week.”

“Y’r’not funny,” Peter scowled.

“I’m hilarious, boy,” Yondu smirked, grabbing a hold of the brace and gently scooting Peter a little bit closer, “Now, let’s see,” he turned his leg to the side, examining the very blue screen on the back and nodded, “A’right,” he popped the hinges along the center and the lights died instantly, “Good as new. Now don’t go doin’ anything like that again, I’d beat’cha for it, but I think y’already learned y’r’lesson.”

“I did,” Peter nodded vigorously.

“A’right,” Yondu grinned, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Peter swung his legs off the bed, hopping onto his feet and smiling when both legs felt completely the same, great, “Where’re we goin’?”

“Xandar,” Yondu said, “An’ y’r’gonna get us there.”

“What?” Peter scoffed, stopping in the hallway, “Yondu I can’t.”

Yondu stopped and turned at those words, narrowing his eyes at the boy, “Y’ain’t even tried, Peter, don’t’cha dare tell me y’can’t.”

A chill went down his spine, but Peter felt a strange boost in confidence from the words, sure the Captain had no intention of letting the boy pilot his massive spacecraft. Hoping he was right and trusting Yondu’s judgement, Peter continued following the Captain into the control room.

“Git on up here,” Yondu slapped his driver’s seat and Peter jumped onto the chair, sitting on his knees for an extra boost as Yondu adjusted the screens lower.

Peter had seen Yondu expertly shuffle through the holographic images and was excited to finally learn what the Captain was doing and how he knew what to do. Yondu began, familiarizing Peter with the control panel that showed the health and stats of the Eclector, Kraglin had taught him all about it, so they moved on quickly to the navigation panel.

Yondu showed him how to search coordinates, insisting Peter would memorize many of them after a while, though Peter thought that seemed like a lofty goal. Inputting coordinates was easy once the boy got the hang of it, requested the Captain to challenge him with more planets to find, quickly pulling them up on the screen. It was a great game and even Yondu seemed to enjoy trying to throw the boy for a loop, smiling proudly every time Peter found the directed spot quickly.

“This is fun!” Peter exclaimed, not even sure how long they’d been playing with the navigation system.

“Well now y’got the hang of it,” Yondu said, “let’s put in the coordinates for Xandar ‘n git a move on.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter nodded with determination, plotting in the coordinates as the Captain spoke them and as soon as Xandar popped up on the hologram he pressed his finger to the planet how he’d seen Yondu do many times.

“Slow down,” Yondu chuckled, “but yeah, now you’ve got it locked in, git up I gotta take over.”

Peter slid off the seat, but turned on the Captain with sheepish, pleading eyes.

“What?” Yondu asked.

“Can I help?” Peter mumbled, swinging his shoulder a little pathetically.

“S’long as y’cut that whiney crap out,” Yondu nodded, slapping his leg in invitation and Peter smiled, climbing onto the Captain’s lap.

Yondu let him man the controls, with help, until they neared the atmosphere of Xandar, ordering Peter into his seat with the added demand of buckling the shoulder straps. He complied, but Peter knew no one else on the ship had to be buckled in for planet descents and rolled his eyes behind the Captain.

Kraglin entered the command room just as they broke the atmosphere and Yondu hardly looked at the First Mate as he barked an order.

“We’re landin’ here, Kraglin! Sit’cher ass down ‘n strap in!”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin hopped into the seat next to Peter, smiling when the boy stuck his tongue out at the back of Yondu’s head.

“What’re we goin’ t’Xandar for?” Peter whispered to Kraglin.

“You’ll see,” Kraglin grinned.

“What?” Peter urged.

Kraglin just gave him a mysterious smile and looked forward as Yondu directed the Eclector into a perfect landing in the same large lot they had the last time they’d stopped. As soon as the ship touched down, Peter ripped his straps off and jumped to his feet, Kraglin followed quickly and Yondu shook his head at both of them before leading his boys out of the command room.

Several Ravagers were clamoring through the halls towards the exit hatch, eager to not miss a moment of their time off the ship.

“Y’all behave y’rselves!” Yondu barked, “Y’get thrown in prison y’r’gonna stay there!”

A chorus of ‘yes, sir’ echoed from the crew.

“Kraglin,” Yondu said, “Y’can have some fun, but make sure y’stop by Aparski ‘n get what I ordered.”

“An’ the broker, sir,” Kraglin reminded.

“Oh, yeah,” Yondu grinned and winked at the First Mate, making Peter whip his head between them with a frustrated scowl, “Boy, better wipe that look off y’r’face, c’mon y’r’with me.”

Peter sighed quietly, not that he’d rather do errands with Kraglin, but really wished he had the freedom of the rest to go out and do what he wanted on stop, they really were rare occurences. Yondu led Peter out of the hatch as the Ravagers jumped to the ground and a few hurried towards the city, but the Captain headed towards the forest.

“Where’re we goin’?” Peter asked as he walked quickly to keep up with Yondu’s long strides.

“You’ll see,” Yondu said, the corners of his mouth jerking upward as Peter outwardly sighed.

The trees reminded Peter of Earth, if he didn’t know he was on another planet the woods could’ve easily fooled him, except the strange critters scurrying through dead leaves. Peter thought for a moment he should be nervous with Yondu taking him into the forest alone, he was a notorious Ravager Captain with a history of being short tempered after all, but the boy scoffed lightly at the idea of Yondu hurting him.

“A’right, boy,” Yondu stopped finally and tossed one side of his jacket back, revealing his necroblaster on his hip, “We’re gonna do a little shootin’ practice today,” he pulled the gun from its holster and gestured Peter closer with his other hand.

The boy smiled widely, trying very hard not to bounce with excitement, Yondu said it made him nervous when he got jumpy, but it was really hard to contain himself, he’d never been allowed to shoot the big gun before.

“Really?” Peter squeaked.

“Don’t shoot me,” Yondu said with dry humor as he held the blaster out to Peter’s eager hands, “Y’remember the rules?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter nodded, “Keep it pointed down ‘til I’m ready t’use it, never point at anything I don’t plan on shootin’, ‘n be careful’a what’s behind the target.”

“Good boy,” Yondu said proudly, releasing the blaster to Peter and turning him towards a clearing with a blue finger pointing across at thick trees, “Tag the third tree in the middle’a the trunk.”

Peter took aim and fired the blaster, thankful Yondu had a hand on his back as well as his shooting arm because the recoil jerked him backwards, nearly smacking himself in the face with the gun, but Yondu kept it from connecting.

“Well,” the Captain chuckled, patting Peter on the back, “now y’know. Y’ready for it this time?”

Peter nodded determinedly, squaring himself on the trees again and waited for Yondu’s instructions.

“There’s a knot on the second tree,” he said, “hit it.”

Peter found the spot and, when he pulled the trigger, he only rocked into the Captain a little, his arms stayed mostly straight from the kickback. Yondu clapped him on the shoulder with a proud laugh and gave the boy another location to take aim.

“This is awesome, Yondu!” Peter exclaimed after his first dozen or so shots.

“Happy birthday, kid,” Yondu said.

Peter took great pleasure in shooting the blaster, once taking off an entire tree limb before Yondu insisted they head back to the ship. Under the heavy canopy of leaves, the forest darkened fast in the late afternoon and Peter relented, walking back to the ship next to the Captain.

Several of the Ravagers were already on board when they arrived, more trailing them as they walked through the hatch, but Peter didn’t see Kraglin.

“C’mon,” Yondu jerked his head for Peter to keep following and headed towards the mess hall.

Matbua was sliding back to the kitchen, his snake arms wiggling along as his blob-like body shivered at every movement. Peter was always disgusted by the ship’s cook, but his eyes fell on something else at the Captain’s table that stole his attention, a large, white frosted cake with various sized candles jammed into the top of the third tier. He approached the dessert tentatively, wondering if it was real.

“Happy Earthday, kid,” Gef said as the Ravagers started pouring in the mess hall.

“Birthday, Gef, you moron,” Kraglin scoffed, pushing through the crowd with a large box in his arms.

“I thought, he calls Terra Earth,” Gef pondered with confusion, “what’s a birthday again?”

“It’s the day I was born,” Peter laughed, his eyes on the package Kraglin set on the floor in front of him, “Is that for me?”

“Sure is,” Kraglin nodded, “Captain’s present.”

“I may’a paid f’r’it,” Yondu said, “but the idea was Kraglin’s ‘n he’s gonna put the work in, so consider it from both’a us.”

Kraglin’s ears turned a little pink as he grinned modestly at the Captain and stammered a thank you.

Peter wanted to rip open the package, but Yondu insisted they follow the traditional steps from the book on Terran culture and blow out his candles first. Though the Captain admitted he didn’t understand the point while sparking the wicks on the ten candles of varying size and shape. Peter had to stand on Yondu’s chair to see over the tall cake, smiling around the room as the Ravagers attempted a very bad, off-key version of ‘Happy Birthday’. Gef definitely said ‘Earth Day’ at least once and many of them simply hummed in confusion, Yondu apparently had tried to make them learn it, though he himself didn’t seem to know how the song went and ended in more of a funeral march than the upbeat melody Peter had heard many times on Earth. He liked the Ravager version, it was really funny, but he managed to stifle his laughter through the whole song, blowing all his candles out at once after a silent wish for flying lessons to be added to the curriculum Yondu was forcing on him.

A few of the crew had picked up a trinket or sweet for the birthday boy while on Xandar, Obio even got him a svass cookie which surprised Peter tremendously. Finally, Yondu said he could open the large box from him and Kraglin.

Peter wasted no time prying the top off the crate and at first he didn’t understand the jumble of parts he was staring at, but then a familiar word caught his eye emblazoned on a small, silver box- Sony. Peter picked up the skeletal piece of a cassette player and looked up at the Captain and First Mate with eager curiosity.

“We found some bits ‘n pieces,” Kraglin shrugged, “Figured you ‘n I could build it in the Milano, have some tunes when y’r’flyin’.”

“Not that you’ll be doin’ that alone yet,” Yondu added, “but it’s y’r’ship, figured you needed somethin’ t’make it y’r’own.”

“It’s mine?” Peter asked quietly.

“Course,” Yondu scoffed, as if that was obvious, and Peter lunged to hug the Captain, only releasing him to grab the First Mate, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“So y’like it?” Kraglin grinned.

“I love it!” Peter jumped, returning his hands to the crate to rifle through the other pieces, but his eyes looked pleadingly at Kraglin, “Can we go start now?”

“Don’t’cha want some’a this cake?” Kraglin chuckled.

“Oh, yeah!” Peter nodded.

The cake was surprisingly tasty, even if it was a bit lopsided, but all the Ravagers seemed to enjoy it as much as Peter did. A few of them started wondering when their birthdays were, making lighthearted jokes to the Captain about the celebrations they’d prefer, which Yondu responded with a good-natured remark that if any of them could so much as figure out how old they were, let alone when they were born, he’d consider the requests. Kraglin and Peter finished their cake together, both thanking the Captain as they left for the hanger with the crate of stereo parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I love to hear what you think- and it's Monday and I work 12 hours today so give me something to smile about ;-)


	15. Fight Training, or Terran Weaknesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For GiulsComix though I hope you all enjoy. I couldn't for the life of me find an organic place to stick this scene in another chapter so I'm adding a short little one from her prompt request of a tickle fight between Yondu and Peter. Hope this is what you were hoping for!

Peter was partially excited for his first fight training session with Yondu while the rest of him was extremely nervous. The Captain had wanted to wait a little while after the leg brace came off to start what he said would be a ‘physically grueling’ affair. Peter hoped, like most things, Yondu was exaggerating for the fun of watching him squirm, holding onto that thought as he knocked on the double doors.

“Y’ready, Pete?” Yondu asked after opening the door, staring down at the anxious boy.

“Yes, sir,” Peter nodded as confidently as he could and walked into the room at the Captain’s gesture.

Yondu’s sitting area looked much larger than usual with the sofas and arm chair pushed to the walls, the cushions, however, laid on the floor in soft heaps.

“Take y’r’jacket off,” Yondu pointed to one of the bare couches and Peter tossed his leather jacket over the arm rest, “A’right, kid, I know you’ve scrapped once ‘r twice, but we’re gonna go over some moves so y’r’not just flailin’ y’r’arms hopin’ t’hit somethin’.”

Peter thought that was an unfair statement, he certainly didn’t flail, but listened to the Captain’s instructions. Yondu showed him how to set his feet, once Peter had, he gave the boy a slight shove on his shoulder and Peter stumbled backwards a few feet.

“Hold y’r’ground,” Yondu said, “get y’r’feet in position ‘n find y’r’balance,” he surprised Peter with another quick push, but the boy’s feet stayed planted as he swayed under the gentle force, “There y’go!”

He couldn’t help smiling at Yondu’s small praise, though it was short lived as a large blue hand cuffed him lightly on the side of the head.

“Hey!” Peter scowled, it didn’t hurt, but he didn’t like it.

“Then don’t get hit,” Yondu said simply, bringing his other hand in for a similar strike, but Peter ducked before it connected, “See? Y’r’gettin’ it.”

Between avoiding Yondu’s mild smacks and keeping his balance, Peter was hardly ready for the Captain’s foot to hook around his ankles, pulling his legs from under him. He landed hard on his bottom on one of the couch cushions and narrowed his eyes at the Captain, but Yondu just chuckled.

“Can’t git y’r’head they’ll go for y’r’legs,” he said, extending a hand to Peter and helping the boy to his feet, “Gotta be ready f’r’everything.”

Peter made sure to watch Yondu’s feet, as well as his hands, as he continued to avoid the pretend attacks and graduated to defensive moves while mastering evasion, blocking the assaults with his forearms.

Yondu wiped sweat off his blue forehead and smiled at the boy, “Doin’ good, Pete, but what if they come at you,” he extended his hand quickly at Peter’s middle, “straight ahead?”

Peter chopped at Yondu’s arms with his own as he took a quick step backwards, maintaining his balanced stance, and the Captain laughed happily.

“Nice one, boy,” he nodded, “but how ‘bout the side?”

Yondu’s hand went towards Peter’s left side, but, as the boy moved to block it, the Captain’s other grabbed hold of his right side with a little squeeze, sending Peter into a fit of laugher immediately.

“What was that?” Yondu chuckled, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he retracted his hand.

“It tickles,” Peter giggled, pushing the Captain, but succeeded exactly none in moving the large man.

“Like this?” Yondu grabbed at Peter’s sides again and the boy collapsed onto a cushion, trying to twist away as he laughed uncontrollably.

“St-op!” Peter exclaimed through tears of laughter while Yondu’s fingers moved quickly on his ribs.

The Captain did stop and Peter panted a moment before jumping to his feet and lunging at Yondu with a determined smile, making the large man fall back into the arm chair with a soft grunt as his little fingers jammed into Yondu’s sides. Yondu’s amused smirk was not the reaction he was going for and Peter tried his armpits, knowing how ticklish he was there, but gained nothing more than a low chuckle.

“What’re y’tryin’ t’do?” Yondu asked.

“Get you back!” Peter said determinedly.

“From what? This?” Yondu started tickling him again and Peter dissolved into a giggling fit on the Captain’s lap, “Y’tryin’ t’do this t’me?”

“Ye-es,” Peter panted through bouts of laughter.

“I think it’s a Terran thing,” the Captain remarked, letting up a little and then tickled Peter’s exposed stomach where his shirt had ridden up from wriggling.

“No fair!” Peter yelled, his amusement subsiding into a snarling smile.

“When I ever been fair?” Yondu chuckled, letting the boy slide off his lap, Peter answered with a protruding tongue through his pursed lips, “Lemme see that again,” the Captain snatched at the boy’s tongue with his blue fingers and Peter jumped backwards giggled, tripping onto one of the cushions in his amusement, “Oh, no, boy, c’mere,” Yondu leaned off the chair and crawled towards the boy, grabbing his ankle as Peter tried to twist away, dragging him on the cushion into perfect position for his blue fingers to attack his sides again.

“St-op!” he screeched through giggles, “You, you big SMURF!”

“What was that?” Yondu stopped, but his hand remained in a threatening, claw-like position.

“You,” Peter smiled, kicking the Captain lightly, “Y’r’like a grumpy Papa Smurf!”

Yondu grinned thoughtfully at the boy as if trying to decide if it was an insult or not, after a moment his contemplation ended with his hand gently attacking Peter’s ribs, “I’ll show you Smurf.”

“O-kay, you, win!” Peter laughed, kicking his legs and trying to turn from the gentle assault.

“Course I do,” Yondu smiled, sitting back on his heels and patting the boy gently on the side of his hip, “I’m the Captain.”

“Maybe someday I’ll be the Captain,” Peter said with a grin.

“Maybe,” Yondu nodded, “but’cha better not let anybody know ‘bout this.”

“Yon-du!” Peter shrieked with laughter when the Captain’s hand grabbed him quickly on the side, releasing in nearly the same instant.

“Oh, I’m gonna have fun with that, boy,” he chuckled as they both sat panting on the floor in their residual amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will make good on my promise to write a prompt even if it takes me a little bit- so keep them coming!


	16. Ravagers Don't Squeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt request for Peter getting in trouble with his mouth to Yondu and I think most of us can agree the kid's due... though this might not be what some of you were expecting. It's me so you're probably never going to get what you expect lol but I do really hope it's a pleasant surprise.
> 
> I'm going to start moving Peter along into his early teen years in the next few chapters, so get ready for some angst coming soon. All prompt requests go in my notebook and are being worked on, loved the Peter sneaking a girl into the Captain's quarters idea ;) Though expect the next chapter to be more action based, I'm planning on covering a few prompts in one fairly long installment so please bear with me if it's a little longer of a wait than these shorties have been.
> 
> Oh Oh Super Exciting news! One of my readers contacted me to ask if they could translate this story into Russian for the Russian Guardians of the Galaxy fans! So awesome =)

"Boys!" Yondu called and Kraglin and Peter glanced at each other inside the Milano before hurrying out the hatch.

"Yes, sir?" Kraglin jumped to the ground and stood at attention, Peter at his side quickly.

"Pete needs t'work on some languages," Yondu said, raising his eyebrow at the boy's sigh, "Y'been puttin' in off f'r'days, boy, don't be lookin' at me like that."

"But were almost done with the stereo," Peter whined, but it was true, he and Kraglin had completed installing speakers around the ship's interior, wiring them back to the panel housing the cassette player, all that was left was assembling the panel and finishing the install.

"I can finish it, Pete," Kraglin said and Peter scowled at him for the helpful suggestion, he wanted to be there when it was complete, "Or I'll wait f'r'ya, won't take long."

"See?" Peter implored at Yondu, "It won't take long, just a couple more hours. Please?"

"Boy," Yondu nearly growled, "if you aren't walkin' outta this hanger in three seconds, we're gonna have trouble," he narrowed his red eyes threateningly at the hazel pair giving him an identical scowl, "One," Peter snarled at the first number, Yondu raised an eyebrow, "Two," but, when the boy sighed, stomped his foot and left the hanger, Yondu seemed quite surprised the threat had worked.

Peter sulked all the way back to his bedroom, grabbing the tablet as he sat hard on his bed and jammed his finger at the light screen. He chose the navigation module instead of the language application, he was practically fluent in Xandarian and they never even made contact with the Kree, Yondu hated them more than most, the only useful thing about learning Kreedan Peter had found was for the service manuals he'd encountered. He still found the language sessions boring despite their improvement in his overall understanding of daily tasks, not to mention understanding some of the rumbles between the Ravagers.

"Pete," Yondu walked in without knocking and Peter tried to close the map program fast, "that ain't what y'r's'posed t'be workin' on," but not fast enough.

"I'm bored," Peter sighed.

"Y'ain't even started yet," Yondu shook his head, taking the tablet and opened the language application before putting in a code, locking Peter in the program, "Here."

"Y'don't hafta do that," Peter huffed, snatching the tablet back.

"Seems I do," Yondu said and Peter mumbled something under his breath, "What was that?"

"Kurwa puta!" Peter snarled the unfamiliar Xandarian slur bitterly, but Yondu's hardened expression was angrier than he expected and Peter briefly considered he should've researched the meaning of those words before spitting them at the Captain.

His regretful thought was quickly confirmed when Peter found himself yanked over Yondu's knee in one quick movement as the Centaurian sat on the edge of his bed. Peter yelped when two hard swats met both sides of his bottom and a third smacked right in the middle.

"Where'd y'hear those words, boy?" Yondu growled, his hand hovering in the air, preparing for another assault.

Kraglin, but Peter wasn't going to admit that, he knew better than to squeal on a fellow crew member, especially the First Mate, his best friend.

"I don't know!" Peter yelled, crying out as three more hard swats met the seat of his pants, "Please, Yondu!"

"Who'd y'hear it from?" Yondu asked, his hand again in a threatening position over Peter's vulnerable backside.

"I didn't!" the boy insisted, gasping when the Captain swatted him four times, unable to squirm away as he was held firmly over the man's knees, knowing better than to cover his behind with his hands if he wanted to maintain control of his arms.

"Better tell me boy," Yondu growled, waiting for a response.

"No, sir," Peter bit out through gritted teeth, but whimpered as Yondu's hand connected where his bottom met his thighs.

"Now," Yondu said, swatting him again on the other side, Peter shook his head, "Peter," another layered on top of the first as the boy only grunted in response, "Y'wanna turn this into a full on punishment?" he asked, alternating again with a hard smack.

"Go ahead," Peter sniffled, he wasn't going to squeal on Kraglin no matter how long Yondu wailed on him.

The Captain's hand came down once more, but not as hard, on Peter's behind before pulling the boy up and sitting him on the bed, Peter grimaced a little when his bottom touched the mattress. Admittedly, it wasn't anywhere close to the normal discomfort his backside was in after that kind of altercation.

"I never wanna hear y'say those words again," Yondu said firmly.

Peter nodded, wiping his nose, "What'd they mean?"

The Captain chuckled, "Best t'always find out before y'start usin' 'em, huh?" Peter nodded in agreement, "They're too old f'r'you, that's all y'gotta know right now."

Peter wanted to argue, but he didn't want to end up over Yondu's knee again, so he offered a small shrug that he understood, regardless if he was happy about it or not.

"Now," Yondu picked up the tablet and handed it to Peter, "Git t'work, boy."

"Yes, sir," Peter mumbled, swiping his finger on the light screen and starting the application where he'd left off as the Captain left his room.

He didn't really have much left of the Xandarian program and the one on Kreedan was even easier, all their words seemed to be derived off of one of five subsidiary sounds. He wished he had one of the service manuals to skim through while the program played, though Peter didn't think Yondu would begrudge him that and paused the application, sliding off his bed and heading towards the hanger. The Captain's voice made him hide in the shadows of a corner near the entrance when he approached, listening intently.

"He didn't tell me," Yondu said, "but I ain't stupid, Kraglin."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin's voice was nearly a whisper and Peter had to strain to hear, "I'm sorry, I don't remember when he'd a heard me, maybe when we was workin' on the ship."

"Y'called the ship that?" Yondu chuckled, "Like I said Kraglin, I ain't stupid. I outta give y'at least double what I gave him, 'n I would if I hadn't sometimes muttered the same words 'bout my Captain, just I didn't have a little shadow repeatin' everythin' I said 'n did."

"Sir?" Kraglin sounded unsure and Peter was also confused by Yondu's words, though he understood he was the 'shadow'.

"Y'r'the First Mate," Yondu said, "an' the men may look t'you f'r'leadership, but Peter looks up to you, 'n he's got a lotta learnin' ahead, make sure y'r'teachin' him the right stuff."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin said firmly, "Are you, uh, gonna? If Peter got walloped I deserve to."

"He's had worse," Yondu scoffed lightly, "I'm proud'a the kid, he wouldn't give y'up, even when I threatened to keep goin' 'n really punish him, just told me t'do it."

"He's a tough little guy," Kraglin said proudly and Peter smiled from his hiding place.

"That he is," Yondu agreed, laughing shortly, "might even hold up under questioning someday."

"They'd hafta get t'him first," Kraglin sounded determined that that would never happen.

"Y'r'turnin' into a good man, Kraglin," Yondu said, "just watch y'r'mouth around the kid."

"Yes, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Yondu too lenient or maybe just very realistic lol Any guess on the language(s) of those curse words?


	17. Definitely More of a Dog Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was asked for action and a mission, I hope this meets that- also this is launch prompt for Yondu being hurt and Peter taking care of him (or trying to) so I am planning a follow up to this one. I didn't intend for these shorts to tie in to each other as much as some have but I think it's inevitable. Anyway, I really hope you like it and as always I love your opinions and want more ideas! =)

Peter had a ritual before a mission. Starting his Awesome Mix from the beginning while he polished his boots, strapped his holster around his waist (though he was on the last notch and should probably ask Yondu for a new one soon), slipped into his red leather jacket (this had been recently replaced, after he’d outgrown his second, with one of Kraglin’s old ones and was _just_ too big on him, but perfectly usable) and then he stood in front of his bedroom mirror, repeatedly pulling his blaster into attack position quickly before sliding it next to his hip again.

The blaster was the same, unfortunately. Yondu insisted it would put down a Fonabi and if he needed any more power than that the boy wouldn’t be on the job, which Peter had rolled his eyes at, though reminded himself to wait until the Captain had turned his back.

Yes, Peter had picked up a few tricks from Kraglin on dealing with Yondu, though he could never be as contrite as the First Mate and still earned himself the occasional trip over their commander’s knee, or, more often, a single swat for his mouth. Peter truly preferred the spankings to the swats as bizarre as it seemed, but Yondu at least minded the boy’s dignity if he was being punished and took him somewhere private, unlike the short reminders to behave that were always surrounded by an audience. The crew, would make faces and little jokes until their short attention spans moved on, but, when they knew Peter had been soundly reprimanded by the Captain, it was strange to see how much gentler they all were with him for a while. Not that that was saying much for some of them, Narblik and Taserface would simply ignore him, but Tullk, Gef and some of the others would give him encouraging grins and, once, Tullk even snuck him a few sweets from the mess hall. Kraglin of course was always the one to offer comfort, not that Peter needed it, but he could tell it made Kraglin feel better and he didn’t mind, silently admitting it was kind of nice.

It had been at least a few months, however, since the last time Peter had found himself in that position with Yondu and he was determined it wouldn’t happen again, he was getting too old for such a childish punishment. Though considering the other Ravagers were subjected to beatings by often the entire crew, he found himself at a difficult choice, not that it was his to make. Yondu had reminded him several times, when Peter had protested his age before a spanking, his opinion in the matter didn’t count. So, Peter’s best option was to behave, or at least not get caught, something he was getting extremely skilled at.

He felt the normal pulse of anxiety rushing through him, his excitement for missions never changed, no matter how many he went on, he was always bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the green light. Sliding his blaster back into its holster, Peter left his room towards the hanger, knowing he would be early, but it gave him a chance to play his tape in the Milano. He danced down the hallway to _Cherry Bomb_ , doing a spin when Brahl stared at him from inside the open bathroom, his face half shaven as he shook his head at the boy who just started singing out loud to the Archonian as he moonwalked backwards.

“ _Come on, baby, let me get to you._ _Bad nights causing teenage blues,”_ Peter didn’t know if he sounded terrible as the music blasted in his ears, but he didn’t care, Brahl almost smiled and turned back into the bathroom.

Peter skipped and twisted expertly, his training sessions with Yondu had certainly been paying off, helped by his natural flexibility and coordination. He ran at a garbage bin, leaping onto it and springing into a front flip before sprinting the rest of the way to the hanger. No matter how many missions he went on, Peter still felt excited and nervous until well after it was over, feeding on the adrenaline spikes despite the Captain’s constant warnings to keep his head about him. Peter, however, was sure he functioned better on a job with his hands a little shaky, at least he was paying attention.

He knew they wouldn’t be taking the Milano, Kraglin was the only one who would use it to humor Peter and there were too many of them going on the job for it to be a comfortable fit. He climbed into the hatch of his ship, smiling in the quiet space and immediately approached his stereo.

The wood paneling and smooth, silver knobs reminded him of the expensive stereo his Grandpa had had, he’d always let Peter play whatever music he wanted, as long as the older man was supervising. Considering Peter had once tried to shove a Lego brick in the tape deck he couldn’t really blame him, though he had been very little when he’d done that and thought it was a bit unfair that even at eight-years-old his grandfather hadn’t let him near the device without a watchful eye. Now, however, he had his very own that Kraglin and him had built together and it was the best stereo in the universe, especially after the addition of his scratch and sniff stickers and Alf memorabilia cards. He’d tried explaining the character to Kraglin, who assured him there were no species he knew of that looked or acted like Alf.

Peter popped his cassette from his Walkman, slid it into the stereo deck and depressed the play button, smiling as _Escape (The Pina Colada Song)_ started blasting from the surrounding speakers. He’d originally wanted the speakers placed on either side of the panel, like all the stereos he’d ever seen, but Kraglin insisted if they wired them around the cabin it would increase the sound quality. Peter couldn’t deny the First Mate had been right as he kicked and punched the air in sync with the song, preparing himself for the upcoming mission.

“Peter!” Yondu’s loud bark made the boy jump, snatching his tape from the stereo and shoving it in his pocket before hurrying out of the Milano.

“Yes, sir?” Peter leapt from the top of the hatch ramp, grabbing a steel bar and swinging himself directly in front of the Captain, rising to his full height with a little smirk.

“Cute,” Yondu said dryly, “Y’r’gonna go deaf listenin’ t’that stuff so loud.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter nodded, holding back his retort that it wasn’t _that_ loud, “Are we leavin’ soon?”

“Soon,” Yondu confirmed.

“And we’re goin’ t’get a rock?” Peter asked, still not quite understanding the job, but that didn’t stop his excitement.

“It’s a lamp,” Yondu sighed, “made outta a rock, it doesn’t matter, kid, y’r’job is just t’grab the thing,” he pulled a small device from his pocket and showed Peter the tiny unlit bulbs on one end, “This is a tracker, it’ll register the energy when y’r’closer ‘n alert’cha when you’ve hit it. I’m expectin’ it t’be right out in the open, but y’r’gonna hafta watch y’rself, the Calurnians are a sneaky breed, I expect a fight, but we’re goin’ in hard.”

“Taserface comin’?” Peter tried to hide the distaste in his voice.

“Narblik,” Yondu smirked when the boy sighed, “an’ Tullk ‘n Kraglin ‘n a few others.”

“Well ‘course Kraglin’s comin’,” Peter shrugged before eyeing the Captain with a funny expression, “Unless y’r’gonna let me run pilot?”

Yondu expelled a short laugh, “Not while I’m onboard.”

“I’ve been gettin’ pretty good, y’said so y’rself,” Peter reminded.

“Y’are,” the Captain conceded with a raised eyebrow, “Still gotta bit’a work t’do on those landings, though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter muttered.

“What was that?” Yondu asked sharply.

“Yes, sir,” Peter said flatly, though his voice raised a bit pleadingly as he continued, “but my take-offs are flawless, Kraglin told me.”

“Kraglin’s soft on ya,” the Captain grinned and tousled his hair, “but he ain’t wrong, y’r’last few take offs have been pretty good.”

Perfect, and it had been at least a dozen in a row, Peter thought bitterly before nodding in outward agreement, “Can I, uh, run pilot a little?”

“We’ll see,” Yondu’s answer was not hard which made Peter hopeful he would allow it.

“Capt’n,” Kraglin entered with a few Ravagers following behind him, Narblik and Tullk included, “We takin’ the Frami?”

“Git ‘er ready,” Yondu nodded and the First Mate immediately pivoted towards the large, dark craft.

“The rugrat’s comin’?” Narblik grumbled to a few of the other Ravagers, though not quietly enough to keep from reaching Peter’s ears and they burned red at the slight.

“Rugrat’s gonna make sure we get paid,” Yondu retorted, “not t’mention he’s a better pilot than you Blik, might even be a better shot by now.”

Peter tried to stifle his smile at the praise, but couldn’t help glancing up at the Captain, though his red eyes were fixed on the group of Ravagers hiding behind the large, dark man.

“Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Capt’n,” Narblik shifted his gaze to the ground, “Y’know I like t’mess around with the kid.”

“That kid’s growin’ up,” Yondu took a few steps in front of his men, “an’ he’s bound t’be better at just ‘bout everything than you, so I suggest y’watch y’r’mouth about him. Don’t wanna be gettin’ on his bad side.”

Narblik grunted bitterly, but didn’t raise his eyes from the floor, and Yondu stalked away into the Frami after Kraglin. Peter’s stomach dropped as he was alone in the hanger with Narblik and a handful of Ravagers that still, even after years, he could hardly remember their names, though in all fairness they spoke languages Peter hadn’t bothered to learn. He smirked at them when a familiar whistle, meant only for him, echoed into the massive space and the boy bolted into the ship after the Captain. It wasn’t a secret to him why a lot of the crew despised him, Yondu had his favorites and he was certainly one of them, to which Peter took full advantage.

Kraglin let him help ready the craft for take-off, barely listening to the familiar instructions as he flipped switches along the control console. The rest of the crew shuffled aboard and Yondu called everyone’s attention to him as he explained, again, what they were going after. An energy lamp made from a special mountain and stolen from a K’lanti named Beyaja after he’d traveled to Calurnia on an out-reach mission. His own planet had finally found peace in their civil war with the Harmonium, despite constant attempts from others to steal it, but this missionary was still plagued with own inner demons and the lamp, the Brim-sker, had provided him with a balanced energy he very much needed. Yondu didn’t explain all of this to the crew, but Peter had badgered him so much for details on their mission ever since he’d been told about it that the Captain had surrendered and told him what he knew.

The Calurnians sounded like cats the way Yondu had described them, Peter was definitely more of a dog person, but the Centaurian had no idea what either of those animals were and stared blankly at the boy after he’d made the reference. They were not a particularly civilized society, but extremely close knit, and it didn’t surprise the Captain one bit that a pompous K’lanti missionary would’ve had had his possessions stripped by the sneaky beasts he was trying to tame, Yondu seemed surprised he’d been allowed to leave alive. However, the haughty idiot was offering a large sum to retrieve his rock lamp, so retrieve they would.

“Kraglin,” Yondu turned and sat behind the two pilot chairs, one occupied by Kraglin, the other by Peter, “We ready t’go?”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded, but stared at the Captain a few moments as if was asking him a question without words.

Yondu chuckled lightly, “Peter,” he called and the boy whipped around, “Wanna get us outta here?”

“Yes, sir!” Peter tried to keep himself from yelling in his excitement, but couldn’t help a huge smile at Kraglin, who grinned back and flipped the control switch to Peter’s side of the console.

Some of the Ravagers below groaned, but the three in the cockpit ignored them as Peter confidently pressed a few buttons and lifted the ship from its pedestal. He’d only piloted the Frami a few times, he still preferred the Milano, finding the dark craft bulky, but Kraglin was right that he should know how to fly as many different ships as he could get his hands on, not condoning he consider stealing any.

Peter directed them through the glowing forcefield, feeling a shift in the weight of the ship as soon as they entered cold, open space. Kraglin set the coordinates to Calurnia, turning the navigation screen towards the young pilot so he could press the final input request and the ship found its course under Peter’s slightly shaky hands. Neither the Captain or First Mate made any comments as they barreled through the darkness and Peter reveled in the silent praise.

“Four clicks to the atmosphere,” Kraglin said, glancing at Peter.

“I know,” he sighed before flipping the controls back to the First Mate for the landing.

Peter watched every move, just like he did every time Kraglin landed, if it was just the two of them the First Mate would let Peter take control, but, with a full ship and the Captain aboard, it was better to let the more experienced pilot bring the Frami to a soft landing.

The planet was jungle-like and Kraglin touched down on a beach on the edge of a dense forest, the group huddled around the Captain just outside the ship in the wet sand as Yondu quietly directed them into different sections of the woods. The Ravagers dispersed at their orders, leaving Narblik, Tullk, Kraglin, Peter and Yondu alone on the beach.

“Here, boy,” the Captain pulled the device he’d shown him earlier from his pocket, “Remember I told y’how it works?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter nodded in agreement and took the device from Yondu, noticing the first bulb had already lit up and the second was flickering.

“A’right, Narblik, you cover the kid,” Yondu’s command was met with curt nods, though Peter was sure Narblik wanted to roll his eyes as bad as he did, “Kraglin, Tullk ‘n myself’ll head in first, draw ‘em out so you can get in there. Be careful, boy, all’a ya, watch y’rselves.”

“Yes, sir,” the group responded in a whisper and Yondu jerked his head for them to head towards the trees.

Peter stayed close to Narblik, despite his hatred for each other, neither would disregard the Captain’s orders on a mission and they snuck into the trees behind the rest of the group.

The Ravagers were stealthy, making very little noise as they crunched along the jungle floor, but it wasn’t long before it was clear they weren’t alone, nor had they moved without notice. As the branches overhead rustled and bounced in the darkness, Narblik pulled Peter closely with a rough pinch on his jacket, moving a bit quicker through the forest. A soft whistle reached his ears and Peter caught a stream of bright red quickly fading between the thick trees in the near distance, followed by several thuds. Then the quiet stopped.

Screeching and hissing filled the air overhead, Peter could’ve sworn they were surrounded by cats. Narblik shoved him forward, keeping the boy close to his side as he growled over the clowder.

“Find it, boy, this is gonna get nasty!”

Peter grunted so Narblik knew he’d heard him, he only gave Yondu and Kraglin verbal answers to commands, and the Captain was the lone one to earn a ‘sir’.

Shots began firing all around and the dark forest was alight with spastic flares. Peter crouched, but maintained his speed next to Narblik as they continued through the trees. He saw round huts hidden among the brush, tiny eyes shone from the entrances, vertical slits of color on the bright yellow backgrounds, but Peter brought his attention back to the mission in an instant, glancing at the device tight in his grip. All but one light was completely lit and the last was flickering gently.

Narblik turned him quickly as a creature dropped on the Ravager, Peter pulled his blaster, but Narblik had already thrown the attacker to the ground and blasted it in the chest.

“Y’r’the thief, kid, not the muscle,” Narblik scoffed at the tiny blaster in Peter’s hand and the boy scowled as he holstered it.

A different sort of flickering was visible through the condensed tree trunks, it wasn’t blaster fire, and the final bulb throbbed on the device in his hand. Peter jerked his head towards the soft, dancing light and Narblik gave him a nudge as he sent another blast towards an approaching Calurnian.

Peter watched his surroundings as he hurried towards the light, pushing through the thick bushes ahead and caught sight of the glowing, pink rock on a pedestal of intricately woven branches. He rushed at the object, but a stabbing pain in his calf pulled him to the ground, hardly having time to throw his hands out to stop himself, the device tumbling off to the side as it shivered while the lights blinked rapidly. Peter was flipped on his back roughly and barely managed to cover his face with his forearms before claws were shredding his jacket and the thin skin on the back of his hands.

Narblik’s growl reached his ears and he knew the Ravager was under attack too, Peter tried to twist away from his assailant, but couldn’t risk moving his hands, crying out at every stinging slice to his skin. A sudden blast hit the creature on top of him and it slumped to the ground, in nearly the same moment, Kraglin was by his side.

“You okay?” he asked breathlessly, his blaster clattering to the ground carelessly.  

“I-I’m,” but Peter didn’t have time to tell Kraglin how much pain he was in as another Calurnian leapt onto the First Mate’s back.

Kraglin let out a howl, grabbing the claws that had sunken into his shoulders and tossed the creature to the ground, but it landed on its feet, crouched in attack position. Kraglin looked lost without his blaster and Peter reached for his own at his hip, but a whistle burst through the air with the bronze arrow as it soared through the Calurnian squared on Kraglin. The cat-like man crumpled slowly to the ground and Yondu stepped into the small clearing as he beckoned his arrow into his hand, but as he caught it with his right, a blast hit his left shoulder.

The Captain fell back and Peter saw the Calurnian that had first attacked him propped on the ground with Kraglin’s blaster in his hands, turning it next at the First Mate. Fire lit the clearing briefly and Peter felt heat pass his ear, his stomach lurching in fear, but the Calurnian next to him dropped the gun as he dropped face-first to the ground, dead. Tullk stepped forward and pulled the boy to his feet.

“We gotta go!” he insisted, “They’re holdin’ ‘em off, but we gotta get back t’the ship!”

“Yondu!” Peter cried, brushing Tullk off and hurrying towards the Captain with Kraglin.

“Capt’n!” the First Mate was nearly in tears, “Capt’n, y’alright? Please be alright! I’m sorry, I dropped it, I didn’t think!”

“Kraglin,” Yondu croaked, making both younger men sigh with relief as his eyes opened, “m’fine, we gotta go.”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded, trying to help the Captain from the ground while attempting to pick up his blaster, “Tullk, help me here, Peter, you stay close!”

Tullk immediately stepped forward, but Yondu waved them both away with his right hand, still holding tight to the arrow, “I got hit in the shoulder, my legs work just fine. Where’s the boy?”

“Here,” Peter hopped down from the pedestal he’d scaled in moments, slinging his backpack straps onto his shoulders.

“Keep him close,” Yondu growled at Kraglin without hardly a glance at the boy, “Back t’the Frami, now!”

The all hopped into action, Tullk picked Narblik off the ground only a few feet away from the small clearing as they rushed back towards the beach. It surprised Peter, as they moved so much quicker through the trees, that the beach wasn’t as far as he thought. The Calurnian’s had mostly retreated into their dens, though several still attempted attacks on the Ravagers as they fled, but Tullk and Kraglin kept their blasters at the ready, shocking the creatures into shriveled heaps on the ground.

The hatch of the Frami was open as they emerged from the jungle, Peter’s boots sunk into the sand as they hurried towards the other Ravagers climbing aboard. In the moonlight, it was clear Yondu was a paler shade of blue than normal and Peter saw blood streaming from a singed hole in his jacket.

“Yondu,” Peter breathed.

“Not now, boy,” the Captain muttered.

His bag was heavy on his back as he hurried into the ship, hearing the echoes of nearby blasts behind him from Tullk and Kraglin.

“Peter!” Kraglin yelled, “Get ‘er started ‘n take-off!”

Peter’s stomach twisted, but he mustered all of his confidence, “Yes, sir!” and tossed his bag to the side before nearly flying up the ladder steps to the pilot’s seat. The controls were all within reach, just barely, but they were, and Peter flipped every switch exactly before pressing and holding the large button to kick the turbines on. His finger hovered over the button to close the hatch automatically and he turned towards the opening to the lower level.

“Kraglin?!” he yelled, “You in?!”

“Yeah, Pete!” Kraglin called, sounding breathless, “Go!”

He needed no further incentive and closed the hatch while he lifted the ship into the air. Elation mixed with his adrenaline as he soared towards the starry sky, his hands shook with nerves, the last few minutes were a blur, it could’ve even been seconds, he didn’t know, but having control of the spacecraft was strangely calming.

Kraglin climbed up to the cockpit as they broke through the atmosphere, pushing his sweaty hair back and grinning at the boy, his face scratched terribly. Seeing the First Mate’s injuries reminded Peter he too had been attacked and looked down at his hands. As if seeing it made the pain real, his hands and arms began throbbing, looking as if they’d been shredded, and Peter whimpered, biting his lips on the cry he wanted to expel.

“C’mere,” Kraglin hit the autopilot button and beckoned Peter towards him, carefully helping the boy take off his damaged jacket.

Peter hissed as the leather pulled away from his torn skin and Kraglin tossed it onto a chair, examining the boy’s hands and arms without touching him.

“Ouch,” he said sympathetically, “Why don’t’cha head down ‘n get the medic kit, I’m gonna set the coordinates ‘n I’ll be right down t’patch y’up.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded sadly, his hands were throbbing with pain, at least his jacket had been some protection for his arms.

Yondu was reclined on one of the small bunks, his jacket was next to him and Tullk was slicing the Captain’s shirt from his chest.

“Are you alright?” Peter approached on the Captain timidly.

“Yeah, boy,” Yondu nodded, “I’ll be fine. Those hands don’t look good. Tullk, grab the medic kit.”

Tullk turned towards the group of Ravagers tearing through the box of bandages and ointments for their own wounds, everyone seemed to have at least a dozen nasty scratches. Yondu had been right that the Calurnian’s didn’t have much in way of weapons, but they’d certainly fought savagely with little concern for themselves.

“C’mere,” Yondu jerked his head and Peter carefully climbed onto the bunk and sat next to the Captain, “Y’got kinda roughed up.”

“Not as bad as you,” Peter snorted.

“They hit a lot harder than I expected ‘em to, that’s f’r’sure,” Yondu nodded slowly.

“Capt’n,” Kraglin came down the stairs with a small limp, approaching the bunk with his head down, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t’a dropped my gun, I just saw,” the First Mate paused, but his gaze flickered to Peter quickly before he shook his head, “I shouldn’t’a done it, I understand if y’wanna give me extra duties ‘n, y’know, anything else.”

“Kraglin,” Yondu sighed, “Y’messed up, that’s f’r’sure, but I know why y’did what’cha did, ‘n I doubt y’r’ever gonna do somethin’ so foolish again.”

“No, sir,” Kraglin shook his head adamantly, finally looking up at the Captain, “Never.”

“Kraglin,” Peter was staring at the young man’s face and hands that were more than just scratched and irritated, they were swelling, “what’s goin’ on with y’r’hands? An’ y’r’face is all puffy.”

“I, I don’t,” Kraglin looked at his hands and his words were interrupted by sharp inhales before he let out a powerful sneeze.

“Tullk!” Yondu called, “Grab Kraglin the Lyrdaneb, bettin’ he’s got a Calurnian allergy.”

“I’m, o-o-KAY,” the First Mate’s protest was finished with another explosive sneeze.

“Get a lot of it,” Yondu called to Tullk with a raised eyebrow at Kraglin, who nodded in agreement and sniffled before changing the subject.

“Too bad,” Kraglin wiped his nose, “wish we’d’a gotten this job done, that robed coot sure offered a lotta money.”

“What makes y’think we didn’t?” Yondu grinned, nudging Peter gently, wincing when he did, but maintained his proud demeanor.

“Pete?” Kraglin’s eyebrows raised in happy anticipation, though they stretched a bit further as another sneeze overtook him.

Peter smiled and jerked his head at the backpack by the ladder to the cockpit and Kraglin snatched it from the floor. He pulled out the glowing rock after unzipping the bag and set it on the bunk next to Peter as he handed the lamp to Yondu.

“When did-” Kraglin tried, but another sneeze hit and it was lucky Yondu’s good hand was outstretched as the rock tumbled into his large, blue palm.

“I’m fast,” Peter smirked.

“Guess so,” Kraglin scoffed proudly.

“A’right, boys,” Tullk reappeared with an armful of bandages, ointment and a handful of large yellow pills that he handed straight to the First Mate, “Only take two at a time, Kraglin, every few hours ‘r so. Pete, c’mere.”

Peter wanted to argue that Kraglin was going to patch him up, but, considering Kraglin’s eyes were watering and he was prone to a massive sneeze every few seconds, the boy just stuck his injured hands out to the Ravager and let him pour the stinging liquid on his shredded skin. He bit his lips, but tears stung his eyes, Kraglin would’ve been much gentler.

“Hey, Tullk,” Kraglin growled as he stood next to Peter with a hand on his shoulder, “little easier, huh?”

“Sure thing,” Tullk rolled his eyes, but his touch became slightly more tender.

Peter smiled up at Kraglin, who’s return expression scrunched and he turned away as another sneeze wracked his body.

With the adrenaline leaving their systems, the First Mate was not the only member of the crew affected by the species they’d just fought, and the entire ride back to the Eclector was full of loud sneezing. The only benefit to Kraglin being in a state of random nasal attacks and swollen eyes was, after his hands were bandaged, Peter got to pilot the whole way and the First Mate talked him through landing in the hanger, which he did absolutely perfectly. A few of the crew even cheered, causing a small rise in color in Peter’s ears and a large boost in his ego.

Yondu was still a lighter shade of blue than Peter was used to and felt pained as he watched the Captain struggled to remove himself from the bunk, accepting Tullk’s help after two attempts with an audible growl. It was clear Yondu had lost a lot of blood from the soaked towels piled behind where he’d been and the bandages around his left shoulder were already seeping. Peter, however, couldn’t help notice the scars in the current damage, he’d never seen the Captain with his shirt off and the sight of old abuses gave him a cold, sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Yondu walk out of the ship with Tullk’s assistance.

“Kraglin?” Peter whispered, even though they were following well behind everyone else, “Where’d Yondu get all those scars from?”

Kraglin sighed, then sniffled, “Not my story t’tell, kid.”

He didn’t push, knowing if Kraglin was going to tell him he would, but his loyalty to the Captain was great and Peter knew he couldn’t pry the information from the First Mate. He wondered though, such awful, deep scars were proof of a life Peter couldn’t even fathom. The man who’d never left any last damage on the boy was riddled with lasting damage of his own and Peter had to wonder how it happened, who could have been so cruel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	18. Scars don't hurt, only the memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in my update and I'm warning you this is likely a new trend, I got moved into a position at work that has limited my ability to write during down time. I swear I'm trying to get these out, hence finishing this at 1am, did I mention I'm an insomniac? Oh, by the way, what the hell guys? If y'all see something that's wrong you are not gonna hurt my feelings by pointing it out, a hanger is what you hang clothes on, a hangar is where planes are parked... I've been using hanger this entire story and now I feel like an idiot lol aaaanndd I'm over it ;) but seriously I often edit these quickly so please don't feel like you'll hurt my feelings by saying something, you won't, I don't have feelings anymore my job killed them.

Kraglin took several doses of the Lyrdaneb after retiring to his bed (on Yondu’s orders to anyone displaying allergy symptoms), Peter had asked him so many times how he was doing that the First Mate eventually kicked him out of his room. So, Peter slowly roamed the main hall from Kraglin’s bedroom, directly across from his own, towards the command room and Yondu’s quarters.

The Captain had been rushed into his room by Horuz, blood trailing behind him (which made it all the more impressive that he was still giving orders). Peter had hidden with Kraglin, though the First Mate told him not to worry, the Captain was tough, but he was still concerned and, judging by the look in his eye when he wasn’t squinting from a sneeze, Kraglin was too. He’d snuck a peek out the door a few times, hearing footsteps running up and down the corridor, but saw no one approach Yondu’s door.  

Before he’d gone sulking into Kraglin’s room, Peter had tried to force his way into Yondu’s quarters, furious when Horuz picked him up, placed him outside the door and locked it. The boy had gone to the First Mate with tears of frustrated sadness and was welcomed with attempts of explaining Horuz’s reasoning between sneeze attacks.

Peter had been planning to leave anyway when Kraglin told him to go, but there really wasn’t anywhere to go. The hallway had been quiet for some time and he crept towards the large double doors leading to the Captain’s private rooms. To Peter, however, they weren’t very private, he’d spent a great deal of time behind those doors, some he’d admit to and a lot he wouldn’t, though it was no secret to the crew where their commander preferred to lay his mouthy, young ward over his knee.

Despite the many instances of punishment, Peter felt at home in Yondu’s room, having an equal amount of good memories in the room. He’d learned significant fight training skills one-on-one with the Captain in his sitting area, studied languages and mathematics at length at the large desk and, when the boy had a nightmare, Yondu’s bed was the one he’d’ crawled in (though it had been a while since that had happened). No, Peter did not like being locked out of such a familiar space and pulled a small engine screwdriver and a tiny metal hook from his pocket as he approached the doors.

It took Peter less than three seconds to pick the lock, Yondu hardly ever used it and it wasn’t horribly intricate, the really impressive part was how quietly he did it. Nearly silent, actually. He snuck into the room, easing the door back into position before slowly releasing the handle, all his moves dead quiet.

“The transfusions are goin’ good,” Horuz’s gruff voice was low around the corner near the Captain’s bed.

“Centaurian blood, right?” Yondu could barely be heard in his low, raspy tone.

“Course, Capt’n,” Horuz almost sighed.

Peter edged his way along the wall, crouching in the shadows of the large furniture, out of sight and silent, hoping Horuz would leave soon.

“Y’should check on the boys, the crew,” Yondu ordered quietly.

“They’re fine,” Horuz scoffed, “Y’got the worst of it, Cap.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yondu growled, “let me be.”

“A’right,” Horuz conceded and Peter heard his heavy footsteps before he saw the man walk through the sitting room, holding his breath and keeping as still as he could, but as Horuz reached the door, he swept his gaze across the room and Peter’s stomach sank when the man’s eyes narrowed at him, “Y’ain’t s’posed t’be in here, boy.”

Horuz growled at him as he closed the distance between them and grabbed Peter roughly by the shoulder, dragging him out from behind the sofa.

“Horuz, please!” Peter whined, pulling hard against the much stronger man.

“Horuz,” Yondu croaked and the two stopped struggling with each other as they turned towards the sound of the Captain, “let him in.”

“But sir-” the Ravager tried.

“Let, him, in,” Yondu repeated irritably.

Horuz released his hold on Peter, but the boy shook him off indignantly anyway before rolling his shoulders back with a haughty sniff and walked towards the Captain’s bed.

Horuz scoffed quietly before leaving the room, shutting the door a little hard.

He approached the side of Yondu’s bed cautiously and Peter’s stomach twisted at the tubes hooked into one of the Captain’s arms, but the strained, pointed tooth smile made the boy grin back.

“How y’doin’, boy?” Yondu asked quietly, patting his bed lightly in invitation for Peter to climb up, which he did carefully.

“Fine,” Peter assured him, showing him his hands, “they kinda sting, but not much. You, uh, how are you?”

“I’ve had worse,” Yondu snorted, lifting the arm with tubes attached a little, “just lost a little blood.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, Peter couldn’t help wondering if by ‘worse’ Yondu was referring to how he got the awful scars on his back.

“What’cha sorry for?” Yondu scoffed, “Y’did y’r’job, stuff like this happens sometimes. E’rybody got out alive, that’s what matters.”

“You ever had a mission go that bad?” Peter asked, unprepared for the laughter Yondu expelled.

“Bad?” the Captain shook his head, “That job didn’t go bad, we got what we went for, we’re gettin’ paid, ‘n like I said, e’rybody’s fine, little banged up, but we’ll live.”

“Those Calurnians are totally like cats,” Peter giggle a little as he insisted the comparison again.

“Yeah,” Yondu conceded, “I looked them critters up after y’mentioned ‘em, they definitely got some similarities, though sounds like the Terran ones are pretty small ‘n harmless.”

“House cats,” Peter nodded, “but lions ‘n tigers are big ‘n really dangerous.”

“That so?” Yondu grinned and Peter nodded more adamantly, causing the Captain to chuckle.

“Can I, uh, bring y’somethin’?” Peter asked.

“Like what?” Yondu smirked.

“I dunno,” Peter shrugged, “soup or somethin’, chicken noodle always helps me feel better.”

“Yeah?” the Captain raised an eyebrow.

“Want me t’make y’some?” he offered.

“Sure, boy,” Yondu nodded, “That’d be great.”

“Okay,” Peter slid off the tall mattress, “I’ll be back,” he turned towards the Captain again before walking away from the bed, “Don’t let Horuz lock me out.”

“Promise,” Yondu grinned.

Satisfied, Peter nodded and left the Captain’s quarters. He saw Horuz on his way to the mess hall and offered the Ravager a rather snarky smile, unsurprised when he heard the man growl as he passed. He stopped in Kraglin’s room on his way down the corridor.

“Kraglin?” Peter stuck his head in the door, catching the puffy eyeroll from the First Mate.

“Yeah, Pete?” he sighed.

“I’m gonna make Yondu some soup,” the boy said, “Y’want some?”

Kraglin’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “Yeah, bud, that’d be great, thanks.”

“No problem,” Peter grinned, closing the door and continuing down the hallway.

He and Matbua didn’t exactly get along, not that they’d ever spoken, in the entire time he’d been on the Eclector, Peter had yet to hear the cook speak any language. But when Peter asked him where the Campbell’s Chicken and Stars soup was kept, the blob-like creature simply turned and slid into the large pantry, returning moments later with a the requested can.

“Thanks,” Peter said, taking the soup and looking around for a pot.

Matbua pointed at a rack of silver cookware and Peter nodded in appreciation before trying to extract a pot with one hand as his other remained wrapped around the soup. With one good tug, most of the pots and pans went tumbling to the floor in a clanging mess.

He turned with wide, innocent eyes at the sluggish beast and Matbua blinked slowly at him before slinking away. Peter set the pot on the stove and the can on the metal counter next to it, returning to the floor and quickly shoving the rest of the cookware back onto the low shelf, but not as neatly as it had been.

It took him a few drawers to find anything resembling a can opener, the old-fashioned kind and Peter had only used that once while camping with his grandfather, but he was determined to do something helpful for Yondu and Kraglin. He jammed the sharp end into the top of the soup near the edge, breaking through the metal and repeating the process, slowly, all around the can. It was tedious and took much longer than Peter expected, but finally, he could bend the lid back, careful not to touch the jagged edges.

He dumped the soup into the pot and then stared at the controls on the stove, absolutely baffled by the buttons and small blue screen. Taking a chance, Peter pressed one button, releasing it when flames shot up from the burner behind the pot. He turned, feeling the looming presence of Matbua, sliding to a stop next to him and extending a strange, snake-like appendage, sliding a scale on the blue screen before pressing another button. Peter nodded at the soft flame that flickered to life under the pot.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the large spoon the cook handed him before slinking away again.

When the soup was hot, Peter hit the same button Matbua did and the flame disappeared. The bowls were on a high shelf, so Peter pulled himself onto the counter on his knees and reached for a couple.

A slurry of angry words he didn’t recognize made him jump a little, but the boy kept his balance while whipping his attention at the cook, waving his tentacle like arms as he moved as quickly as Peter assumed he could across the kitchen. Matbua pointed angrily at the floor, his beady eyes barely visible as they’d narrowed into slits on his non-descriptive face.

“Okay, geez,” Peter said defensively, sliding to the floor after setting the bowls on the counter.

Matbua scowled at him, continuing to give him dirty sideways glances as he slid away again.

Peter carefully ladled the soup into each bowl, it took a while with the spoon, but he knew it was smarter than trying to pour it out of the large pot, imagining the mess he’d make doing that. He shoved a spoon in each bowl and dumped the dirty pot and serving spoon in the sink, avoiding Matbua’s glare as he left the kitchen with a hot bowl of soup in each hand.

First, he stopped by Kraglin’s room, balancing one bowl in the crook of his elbow to open the door.

Kraglin was still reclined on his bed, sniffling with a pile of wadded up tissues next to him as Peter approached carefully. He set one bowl on the First Mate’s nightstand before trusting himself to look at him with a grin, Kraglin returned it looking proud.

“Thanks, Pete,” he said, “I ain’t never had that before. It’s good?”

“The best,” Peter assured him and Kraglin scoffed lightly as he picked up the bowl and put a spoonful in his mouth.

“Wow!” the First Mate’s eyebrows raised as his gaze flickered from the boy to the bowl in his hand, “Peter, this is great! Chicken soup, huh?”

“Chicken noodle,” Peter corrected with a large smile, happy Kraglin liked the taste.

“Well I see why it helped you,” Kraglin managed while shoveling one spoonful after another passed his lips.

“I’m gonna bring this one t’Yondu,” Peter said, lifting the other bowl a little.

“Sure, yeah,” Kraglin nodded, hardly taking his eyes off the meal, “Hey, thanks again, Pete, this is delicious.”

“No problem, Kraglin,” he said at the door, “I hope y’feel better soon.”

“Already am, kid,” the First Mate smirked after a hard swallow and Peter closed the door with a smile.

He hoped Horuz hadn’t locked Yondu’s door, he didn’t want to put the bowl down while picking the lock again. Peter repeated that wish as he approached the large double doors and turned the handle, sighing when it revolved and the door pushed open. Horuz couldn’t keep him out, not when Yondu wanted him there.

He carefully made his way to the bed, not lowering his gaze when Horuz tried to scowl at him, Peter had learned from the Captain to never look intimidated, even if he was.

“Yondu?” Peter whispered in the quiet room and heard the Captain grunt as his red eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, boy,” Yondu’s raspy voice was low, but he grinned at Peter, beckoning him closer, “I was just takin’ a little nap. What’cha got there?”

“Soup,” he raised the bowl in his hands, stepping closer when Yondu beckoned again and slid the soup onto the Captain’s nightstand like he had Kraglin’s.

“Thank you,” Yondu said, sitting up with effort, “Horuz, I think I’m alright f’r’now. Why don’t y’go see chores are gettin’ done by anybody who’s able.”

“Yes, sir,” Horuz nodded curtly and left the room.

“I made Kraglin some too,” Peter said proudly, nodding at the bowl.

“Yeah?” Yondu raised an eyebrow weakly, “What’d he think?”

“He loves it,” Peter assured him.

Yondu chuckled weakly, but reached a large blue hand towards the bowl, setting it on his lap and lifting the spoon to his lips, “Well,” the Captain smirked, “he’s not wrong. Thanks, kid.”

“Y’r’welcome,” Peter beamed at the kernel of praise.

“Mmm,” Yondu seemed to perk up a bit after another bite, “I’ll give it t’the Terran folk, y’all sure can put flavors together.”

“Yeah,” Peter giggled, “it’s way better than the stuff up here.”

“It’s good,” Yondu nodded, taking another bite, “not much f’r’presentation, kinda looks like the crap I used t’get forced on me, but the taste, naw this is far from that nasty mush.”

Peter swallowed hard, considering the opportunity he’d just been offered and decided to take the chance, wanting to know more about the commander he’d grown rather attached to over four years.

“Yondu?” Peter had a hard time meeting the red eyes as he asked his question, hoping he didn’t anger the Centaurian, but it had been nagging at him, “What, uh, where did, y’r’back, I saw the, uh, your, scars.”

Yondu nodded slowly, but his expression didn’t look angry and he responded after swallowing another spoonful, “I got a few of ‘em.”

“Why?” Peter asked simply.

Yondu’s lips tightened briefly and he glanced down at the bowl before looking back at the boy and sighing, setting the soup on his nightstand, “Before I was the Captain I was part’a Stakar Ogord’s crew, he freed me from the Kree ‘n offered me a place with the Ravagers.”

“Freed you from the Kree?” Peter inclined his head.

“I was a Kree battle slave f’r’twenty years,” Yondu said, “I was raised by Kree generals, every day was a fight, a war f’r’a cause I didn’t even know.”

“Why?” Peter scowled at the idea.

“Just happens t’some people,” Yondu smirked.

“But why?” Peter’s eyes stung and he blinked quickly, he knew a bit of what slaves in Earth’s history had endured, at least from the little he’d learned in school about the start of the Civil War.

“Boy,” Yondu chuckled, “I couldn’t tell ya. Just happens.”

“They did that t’you?” Peter choked the words out, climbing onto the mattress at Yondu’s silent invitation.

“That ‘n more, Pete,” Yondu nodded.

“But, that’s,” Peter shook his head, afraid he’d start crying, he hated crying in front of Yondu, but the Captain just beckoned the boy closer with a blue finger.

“It’s life, kid,” Yondu said, pulling Peter close to his bare chest and holding him while he shook from holding in tears, “It ain’t fair, it just is what it is. An’ look at me now, huh? Capt’n of a huge ship, a large crew, includin’ a bratty little Terran who helps about as often as he causes trouble,” Peter giggled as Yondu gently smacked his bottom, “I’d say overall, I got it pretty good, ‘n where I started from just helps me appreciate all’a that when I take it f’r’granted sometimes.”

Peter nodded into Yondu’s chest in lieu of words, not having any that could match what the Captain had said, just letting the man’s wisdom sink into his young mind.

“Hey,” Yondu shook him a little to get Peter’s attention after a few minutes, “Let me eat this soup, huh?”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, “sure,” and rolled over onto the mattress, watching Yondu enjoy the soup he’d made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	19. Boy Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couple things, I know "Come a little bit closer" was from the second movie, HOWEVER, Rocket asks Kraglin if they have any clones of Quill's old music and since Quill didn't open the second tape until the end of the first movie I've decided that song was technically on the first Awesome Mix. This scene was inspired by a prompt request for Kraglin and Peter to discuss entertainment between planets, but sort of spiraled into something else and the game of toss is something my siblings and I have always done while conversing.

_Come a little bit closer,_

_You're my kinda man,_

_So big and so strong,_

_Come a little bit closer,_

_I'm all alone and the night is so long_

"Yeah I like this one," Kraglin said, reclined on one of the Milano's bunks, "it's catchy y'know."

"Come a little bit closer by Jay and the Americans," Peter told him, turning the volume up on the stereo a little before sitting on the table with his feet on a chair, "Nineteen-sixty-four."

"I don'know how y'remember that stuff," Kraglin shook his head, tossing a blue ball in the air over his head, "Y'know all those songs."

"They were my Mom's favorites," Peter admitted, fingering a small hole in his jacket sleeve and wishing he'd said something else, "It's the same as you rememberin' the parts'a ships 'n where they go."

"I guess," Kraglin shrugged, tossing the ball to Peter, "I use that stuff though, 'n it all makes sense. I don't know the names'a any'a the Xandarian bands I've listened to."

"Xandar has bands?" Peter asked, catching the blue ball with one hand and tossing to his other before throwing it back at Kraglin.

"Sure," the First Mate scoffed, catching the ball and lobbing it back with one hand, "Think Terran's are the only ones to figure out how t'make different sounds outta stuff? Though I will admit they do it better, y'r'kinda folks might not have the know how f'r'space travel, but the little stuff, music, food, the stuff that makes life fun, they pretty much seem t'have everybody else beat."

"Y'think?" Peter tossed the ball back, catching it again quickly as Kraglin shot the sphere back without hardly grabbing it and they both chuckled, "I mean, I know my Granpa used t'say most people just work till they die," Peter threw the ball at Kraglin, thinking about the conversation he'd eavesdropped between his grandfather and a friend who was contemplating retirement, none of it made sense to the little boy, but those words from his grandfather, urging his friend to 'enjoy what he'd earned' had stayed locked away in his mind.

"Lotta dangerous jobs on Terra?" Kraglin furrowed his brow, catching the ball Peter threw.

"Some," Peter shrugged, grabbing the ball with his non-dominant hand and clapping his other over the top when it nearly fell, offering the First Mate a relieved smile before tossing it towards him.

"Then why do so many of 'em die at work?" Kraglin asked as he caught the pass.

Peter inclined his head in confusion, but, as the ball met his waiting hands, he started laughing, nearly falling back on the table with the ball clutched to his chest, shaking his head as he replied, "No, I mean, people just work a lot 'n that's all they do 'til they're, y'know, dead," he tossed the ball back to Kraglin as his statement ended.

"Well, everybody does that," Kraglin scoffed, tossing the ball from one hand to the other before throwing it back, "Most at least."

"Think y'r'ever gonna stop bein' a Ravager?" Peter asked as he threw the blue toy at his companion.

"Naw," Kraglin shook his head, "Ain't a whole lot better out there f'r'me, 'n I like my life," he said, chucking the ball back at Peter who was thankful it was soft when he caught it hard in the gut, but didn't let it drop, "How 'bout you, kid?"

Peter shrugged, truthfully, he'd rather help people then steal stuff, but he didn't know how to say that, "I guess it's alright," he hurled the ball back at Kraglin, but the First Mate caught it expertly with one hand.

"Where'd y'rather be?" Kraglin asked, tossing it gently again.

"No where," Peter assured him and it was true, there really wasn't anywhere he'd rather be than the Eclector, specifically the Milano, "I just," he tossed the ball nervously between his hands before the throw, letting a little truth fly with it, "I'd like t'help people."

"Y'wanna be like a superhero 'r somethin'?" Kraglin's question wasn't mocking, his eyes were bright as he tossed the blue sphere to the boy on the table.

"I don'know," Peter shrugged, "Kinda, maybe."

"Got a name?" Kraglin asked with a smile, catching the return throw.

Peter blushed a little, nearly dropping the pass Kraglin threw because his eyes were on his feet, but managed to hold onto the ball after a small fumble, "My Mom used t'call me somethin'," his stomach still turned when he spoke of his mother, but with Kraglin and Yondu he felt safe expressing a little of his feelings.

"Well," Kraglin chuckled as he motioned for Peter to speak and throw him the ball, "Y'gonna make me guess?"

"Star Lord," Peter forced the name out as he tossed the ball, waiting for Kraglin's laughter.

But the First Mate didn't even chuckle as his eyebrows raised and he caught the ball, "That's cool, Pete."

"Yeah?" Peter smiled.

"Yeah," Kraglin nodded, throwing the blue ball back to the boy.

"Don't tell anybody though, huh?" Peter requested, snatching the ball with one hand.

"Course," Kraglin scoffed as he caught the pass Peter returned.

"So, uh," the younger began, staring at the ball he'd caught a moment before throwing it back, "What's Xandarian music sound like?"

Kraglin chuckled softly, "It's fast, kinda peppy, those folks only listen t'music t'dance, 'n when they wanna dance," Kraglin blushed before tossing the ball at Peter, "Well, there's only one reason they dance."

"What's that?" Peter asked as he lobbed the ball back at the First Mate.

"Pro'lly shouldn't tell ya," Kraglin laughed and shook his head, under-handing the ball to Peter.

"Kraglin, c'mon!" Peter's plea was accompanied by a hard pass directly at the older, but Kraglin snatched it with a smirk.

"Girls, Pete," the First Mate chuckled, "girls. Only reason most men ever dance," he sighed as he tossed the ball high towards the boy on the table, "Women."

"Oh," the boy grimaced a little and held the ball in front of his face before throwing it back at Kraglin.

"Trust me," Kraglin smiled, holding the ball behind his shoulder, ready to pass, "Y'aint't gonna be makin' that face about 'em soon. Didn'cha name this ship after some Terran girl y'had a crush on?"

"Alyssa Milano is different," Peter insisted, clapping his hands, urging the other to toss the toy.

"Girls are girls, Pete," the First Mate said with a knowing laugh before throwing the ball to Peter, "Don't matter what planet they're from, what color they are, 'r who their daddy is, they're all gonna get'cha in trouble."

"You maybe," Peter scoffed, pulling his arm back to chuck the ball at Kraglin, but stopped as the deep, raspy voice echoed into the small ship.

"Boys!" Yondu barked and both jumped to the floor, fighting each other to get through the hatch first.

"Yes, Capt'n?" the said together, struggling to right themselves for a moment and Peter slipped the ball behind his back.

"Horace is missin' his fan's cooling sphere," Yondu said, eyeing them both, "seen a blue, squishy ball 'round anywhere?"

"No, sir," both answered quickly and Kraglin barely moved closer to Peter, but vanished any gap between them as the boy kept their toy gripped tight behind his back.

"The bastard cries he can't work without it," Yondu rolled his eyes, "f'r'some reason he was convinced you two took it. But that ain't the case, right?"

Kraglin and Peter stumbled over 'yes, sir's and 'no sir's, unsure of the correct response, especially since they were lying, but Yondu laughed.

"Back t'whatever it was y'were doin' boys," the Captain shook his head gently, "lemme know if y'see it."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin and Peter said together, bumping elbows in celebration of their scheme as soon as Yondu turned his back.

Taking the cooling sphere had been a joke at first, but they were having fun with is and neither Kraglin, nor Peter, was ready to give up their game of catch just yet. They hurried back into the Milano as soon as Yondu disappeared out of the hangar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	20. Drunks, Jumps and Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This sure feels like a long time coming, thank you to everyone who's been so patient, I've been basically living at my job lately. I'm not giving up on Peter but have lost a lot of time to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's literally taken several weeks from start to finish. Always love to hear what you think!

“Hey, Yondu!” Peter yelled while opening the Captain’s door, running across the sitting area, leaping over the back of a sofa and skidding to a halt at the end of the bed, “You up yet?”

“It’d be impossible not t’be,” Yondu growled as he rubbed his forehead and slipped his feet to the floor, resting his forearms on his knees with exhaustion, “The hell you doin’ in here boy?”

“We’re flyin’ today,” Peter reminded the Captain.

“We’re flyin’ everyday, Pete,” Yondu scoffed, “Hell, we’re flyin’ right now if y’didn’t notice,” he gestured a bit angrily at the large window.

“ _We_ are flyin’,” Peter clarified, “The Milano, you ‘n me. Remember, you’re gonna let me do my first jump today.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” the Captain grumbled, but Peter could hear the lack of conviction and knew damn well Yondu remembered the promise.

“ _You_ said if I memorized the Universal Fly Rules _and_ all the Inter-Galactical bylaws you’d take me on a jump,” Peter’s teeth were almost grinding together, but the young teenager had learned not to yell, understanding that keeping his cool with the Captain always proved more lucrative, “I passed y’r’test, you said we’d go when you got back ‘n you’ve been back f’r’two days.”

Yondu sighed, looking sideways at the boy and nodded slowly, perhaps a little proud of his rational, collected argument, “Y’r’right, I did. I had a late night, kid, couple I guess.”

“Yeah,” Peter couldn’t help as a short laugh escaped his lips, “Gef’s been passed out in the hallway since I got up.”

Yondu chuckled, “Some’a them boys can’t hold their own. It’s not a good look, Pete, keep that in mind.”

Peter nodded, “Are we goin’ or what?”

“Keep y’r’pants on, son,” Yondu sighed, pushing himself to stand and pointed across the room, “and hand me mine.”

Peter grabbed the black pants off the back of a chair, weighed down by the thick belt still threaded through the loops and no less than tossed them at the Captain. The belt was seared in his mind and left the young man with a momentary pang in his gut and tingle in his backside. Yondu had threatened it several times, but only once had he actually applied a few licks to Peter’s behind, something the young man was determined not to undergo again.

“What’d’ya remember about jumpin’?” Yondu asked, cinching his belt around his waist.

“Go for it or don’t,” Peter recited, “if y’half-ass a jump y’r’gonna lose half y’r’ass.”

Yondu nodded curtly, “What’s the jump max?”

“Thirty-five at a time,” Peter answered, “Exceeding forty opens up a chance to fall in a wormhole and more than fifty can scramble y’r’body matter.”

“And what does that mean?” Yondu asked and Peter responded by twisting his arm behind his head and waving at the Captain like he had a hand growing behind his ear, earning a chuckle from the man, “That’s right.”

“Can we go now?” Peter tried to keep his tone from sounding whiney as he begged.

“Have Matbua make me somethin’ hot ‘n greasy,” Yondu grumbled, slipping his blasters into the holster clips, “and get me a drink.”

“Really?” Peter stared at the Captain.

“It helps, trust me,” Yondu waved him off with a blue hand while grabbing for his jacket with the other, “Go, I’ll meet y’in the mess hall.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he left the room. It wasn’t unusual for the crew to get belligerently drunk, but Yondu didn’t often join their antics unless there was a reason to celebrate. Successfully breaking into the Vaults of Entem and getting away with the biggest haul the crew had had in a cycle without a single casualty was definitely something to celebrate, so much so that the party had lasted two days.

Yondu hadn’t let Peter in on the job, insisting it was about man power, not stealth, and made the young man stay behind with Matbua and a handful of Ravagers who were convinced they weren’t invited because of space constraints on the Frami, but Peter knew it was because the Captain didn’t trust them not to screw up and wished he wasn’t part of that group. He’d said as much to Yondu before they’d left and was surprised when the man smirked, admitting Peter’s accuracy on the others, but told the boy the only reason he was staying on the Eclector was he was simply too small to be involved in a siege. That hadn’t made Peter feel much better, changing tactics when he realized he wasn’t going to get the Captain to change his mind.

“We’re s’posed t’go on my first jump,” he’d tried not to pout, but it had definitely come out pouty, after all the hours of studying he’d done to earn the privilege he’d be heartbroken if it hadn’t mattered.

“Think I f’rgot?” Yondu had crossed his arms and stared down at the petulant young man, “We’ll go when I get back. I told y’we would ‘n we will, but I gotta job t’do too, kid.”

“I know,” Peter had grumbled, half convinced Yondu would conveniently forget.

Kraglin had noticed Peter was disappointed before they left and, while not attempting to change the Captain’s decision, he’d assured the boy it wasn’t a slight at his abilities as a thief, simply that the job required brute force. Peter thought it was easy for Kraglin to say that considering he’d get to barrel into the ancient vaults and ransack the place of all its treasure. Although, upon their return, while the crew drank and carried on, Kraglin wasn’t as boisterous as the others, not that he usually was, but Peter had found him sitting off to the side passing a bottle between his hands.

“Hey,” Peter had slid next to the First Mate, nudging him with his shoulder, “nice job.”

“Thanks,” Kraglin sounded unenthused and sipped his drink.

“Go okay?” Peter pried.

“Wouldn’t know,” the First Mate sighed, but finally looked at the younger man, “I mean, it did, but I was in the ship the whole time. Capt’n said we needed somebody at the wheel in case’a a quick get away.”

“Well that makes sense,” Peter reasoned.

“Them Entemen don’t do nothin’,” Kraglin scoffed, taking another sip of his drink, “didn’t even see us comin’, hell, by the time their armies got together we were near the atmosphere.”

“Y’r’a good pilot,” Peter said, earning a small grin from the First Mate.

“Thanks, Pete,” Kraglin nudged him with his shoulder and lifted his bottle a little, shifting his eyes to the very distracted Captain across the room, “Want some?”

Peter glanced at Yondu who was laughing, drinking and playing a game at a table deep in the crowd of celebrating Ravagers, quickly, the young man grabbed Kraglin’s drink and took a big gulp. He nearly spat the bitter, burning liquid out of his mouth, but forced himself to swallow, unable, however, to suppress a harsh cough after he had. 

“Yeah,” Kraglin chuckled, “y’get used to it.”

Peter was sure that wouldn’t be true, until a few minutes later when his body was warm and numb in a surprisingly comfortable way, then he vaguely understood the appeal. Before he could ask for another drink, however, Kraglin had insisted they head to bed, dumping his barely finished bottle in the nearby trash. He clearly didn’t want to be around the party longer than he had to be and wouldn’t let Peter hang around by himself. The entire next day, Kraglin found things for Peter to do away from the drunk Ravagers, even bringing lunch to the hangar while the boy was messing with his Mattel handheld football game, the two had been working on turning the toy into a tracking device for foreign energy masses. Peter hadn’t understood at first when Kraglin had excitedly yammered on about the device’s internal components, but he’d picked up quickly and it had immediately become their new project.

“Hey, Pete,” Kraglin stepped over Gef as he approached the boy in the hallway, “Capt’n awake?”

“Is now,” Peter scoffed proudly.

“Only you, kid,” the First Mate chuckled, walking with him towards the mess hall, “You gettin’ y’r’jump?”

“Yeah, you comin?” Peter smiled.

“Naw,” Kraglin shook his head, “You ‘n Capt’n should go. Y’all yell at each other a lot when he lets y’pilot, anyway. I’m good here.”

Peter expelled a quick laugh, Kraglin definitely wasn’t wrong, but he was still excited, and arguing with Yondu was hardly new, more like a necessary step in all conversations between them.

The mess hall was quiet except for the echoes of snores from the Ravagers passed out on the tables and floor, the boys rolled their eyes at each other and approached the kitchen. Matbua met them in the doorway, blocking their entrance with a narrow-eyed scowl.

“Yondu needs somethin’ greasy,” Peter ordered, but the cook didn’t move, “and hot.”

Matbua continued glaring at the pair for a few, uncomfortable moments before revolving and sliding further into the kitchen, once turning what Peter assumed was his neck to make sure neither was following.

“He said he needs a drink too,” Peter muttered to Kraglin.

“I got it,” the First Mate smirked and walked confidently into the kitchen, instantly accosted by Matbua waving his snake like arms and slowly gliding towards him, “Oh calm y’rself, I’m just grabbin’ a drink.”

Matbua released a slurry of clicks and grunts, but Kraglin opened the cooler and grabbed the bottle he was after, ignoring the cook’s anger.

“Right back at’cha, Matbua,” the First Mate called over his shoulder as he left, skipping around the blob-like creature as a tentacle snapped close to the back of head.

“What’d he say?” Peter asked as the two settled at one of the unoccupied tables.

“Y’think I can understand that idiot?” Kraglin scoffed, shaking his head, “Only Capt’n can talk t’him. Matbua ain’t liked me since I came on board, though I did sneak on in a crate’a Yaro Root, kinda ruined ‘em all, held it against me ever since.”

“What is he?” Peter wondered.

“Dumb,” Kraglin said and they both laughed a minute before the older continued, “I dunno, never seen anything like him besides here. Not a bad cook though.”

“Course not,” Yondu appeared next to them so suddenly Kraglin almost choked on the end of his sentence, “That mine?” the Captain smirked as he picked up the bottle from the table, popped the cap off and took a long gulp.

“Mornin’, Cap,” Kraglin hurried himself to his feet, tripping over his chair a bit as he did.

“Relax, Kraglin,” Yondu wiped his mouth with his sleeve before slapping his First Mate’s shoulder and pushing the young man back into his seat, “Y’have _any_ fun since we got back?”

“Sir?” Kraglin inclined his head in confusion.

“Y’did good, son,” Yondu grinned, “should celebrate that.”

“Yeah, I did,” the young man nodded, “just, y’know, not as much, but I didn’t really do too much on the job.”

“How d’y’figure?” Yondu raised an eyebrow, but the challenge wasn’t in anger, he looked concerned, “The hell we s’posed t’get there ‘n back if it wasn’t you at the helm? Don’t you look away from me boy,” the stern command brought Kraglin’s, and even Peter’s, eyes to the Captain, “You got us in fast with minimal attention and that was easily one’a the finest exits I’ve ever seen. Did y’tell him about it?”

“No!” Peter expelled incredulously.

“No, sir,” Kraglin responded, shifting his eyes down, “We got hit.”

“Where?” Yondu demanded and the First Mate furrowed his brow, “Where did the ship get hit?”

“The underbelly,” Kraglin answered, “by cargo.”

“Any damage?” Yondu asked.

“Cosmetic,” Kraglin shrugged.

“And how many shots did you keep from hittin’ the important stuff? The wings, turbines, _you_ behind that giant windshield,” Yondu challenged and Kraglin dropped his gaze again.

“I dunno,” he grumbled.

“Kraglin,” Yondu snapped, getting the young man to meet his eyes in a fraction of a second, “I know you know. Now, how many shots _didn’t_ hit the Frami?”

“Thirty-seven, sir,” Kraglin said quietly.

“Woah,” Peter couldn’t help the audible shock as his eyebrows nearly reached his hairline.

“Whether y’wanna drink in celebration or not, boy,” Yondu nudged his First Mate on the shoulder with his bottle, “you better be proud’a y’rself, I sure as hell am.”

Kraglin grinned, nodding at the Captain, “Thank you, sir.”

Matbua slid out of the kitchen and set Yondu’s meal on the small table at the head of the room, Kraglin seemed thankful for the distraction as the Captain left them for his food.

“Yondu?” Peter got the man’s attention just as he was about to dig into the steaming pile of slop, “Can Kraglin ‘n I get the Milano ready f’r’take off?”

“Go on,” the Captain rolled his eyes, shoving a large bite into his mouth as the boys quickly left the room.

There wasn’t much to do, they both knew that, but it was an excuse to leave the mess hall and hang out in the hangar. Kraglin had become a fan of Peter’s awesome mix his Mom had made him and figured out a way to copy the tracks onto a hard-drive so they could play them through the speaker system reserved for announcements, but Kraglin was smart enough to isolate the music to just the speakers rigged around the hangar. A few simple key strokes by the First Mate and the large room was filled with Blue Swede’s _Hooked on a Feeling_.

“What’s jumping like?” Peter asked.

“You’ve jumped before,” the First Mate scoffed, “we do it all the time.”

“Yeah, but y’can’t feel it on this thing,” the boy gestured the massive spacecraft around them.

Kraglin offered him a conceding shrug, “It kinda feels like someone’s squeezin’ ya f’r’a second, that’s why y’don’t wanna do too many at a time, body can’t handle the pressure too long.”

“What’s the most you’ve done at once?” he asked and Kraglin smirked.

“Don’t tell Cap,” the First Mate chuckled lightly and Peter shook his head adamantly that he would not, “Horuz and I did twen’y-four once, just messin’ around mostly, but we kinda lost control after the seventeenth ‘n, well, it was still pretty fun, we were fine, luckily.”

“Horuz was messin’ around?” Peter scoffed in disbelief.

“What?” Kraglin laughed, “Just ‘cause he ain’t a fan’a you doesn’t mean he hasn’t joked around with me.”

Peter stuck his tongue out in response and they both chuckled.

“That ship ready t’go?” Yondu asked while he walked into the hangar, stopping a moment as he listened to the song echoing in the vast space and raised an eyebrow at Kraglin, “Messin’ with my intercom?”

“A little,” the First Mate shrugged and his ears turned pink, but Yondu’s grin told them both he wasn’t upset about it.

“C’mon, Pete,” Yondu waved a large hand towards the Milano, “Kraglin, you joinin’ us?”

“No, sir,” Kraglin shook his head, “Better have somebody conscious on board here.”

The Captain chuckled, nodded in agreement at his First Mate and followed the excited teenager through the open hatch of his M-ship.

Peter was already in the pilot’s seat when Yondu sat next to him, looking over with a suddenly hard expression.

“Remember the route we’re takin’?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Peter nodded, his hands getting sweaty on the controls.

“A’right,” Yondu nodded and turned forward, “Let’s go, kid.”

Peter held in a squeal of excitement as he pushed the button twice, holding the second push until the engines kicked on, pulling the turbine controls back slowly and feeling the ship lift off its mount before directing the Milano towards the glowing barrier. Once through, he felt the usual lift from lack of gravity, but maintained perfect control while steering around the Eclector towards the route he’d memorized.

From where they now were it was fifteen clicks to the first jump, at least the first safe jump, technically one was closer, but it would send them right into the outer atmosphere of the Kree realm and that was one area their crew always avoided, so they were travelling a little further to one that lead to open territory.

“Pete,” Yondu pointed to a cloudy spot ahead, “That’s an asteroid field, small one, looks like it’s had time to spread out.”

“I can go around it,” Peter said.

“No,” the Captain shook his head, “Go right through it.”

“Yondu?” Peter furrowed his brow, chancing a quick glance to his left.

“Can’t do it?” Yondu asked challengingly and Peter smirked.

“Hold on,” the confident teen gripped the steering controls tighter and contemplated the mess of space rocks littering his route, in a moment, he’d spotted a way through and pushed the Milano faster into the cloud.

Yondu didn’t say a word, but Peter caught him grip the arm of his seat a bit tighter before the young pilot started making abrupt maneuvers and spinning around the broken asteroid pieces. Up, down, hard right, upside down left and finally they were on the other side.

“See?” Peter smiled at the Captain, panting a little as he slowed the ship down.

“Nice job,” Yondu commented without an ounce of surprise in his tone.

Peter rolled his eyes at the almost compliment, knowing Kraglin would’ve been jumping up and down in celebration of half those moves if he’d been there, but something about Yondu’s lack of enthusiasm encouraged more confidence from the young man. The Captain expected him to have those skills and he definitely didn’t hold that hope for most of his crew.

“A’right, how many clicks t’the jump?” Yondu asked.

“Three,” Peter said, having just checked the navigation screen.

“Get ready,” the Captain warned.

“I am,” Peter promised.

A swirl of light grew larger up ahead, not real light, just lighter than the blackness surrounding it, and Peter’s insides churned with nerves and excitement.

“One click,” he said before Yondu could ask.

“Speed up a little,” the Captain ordered and Peter complied, knowing full well he was already going fast enough, but took advantage of the command since Yondu never told him to go faster.

He barreled at the swirling oval, holding his breath as they entered and immediately feeling his skull crush in on itself, his chest, arms, legs, everything was in a vice, until a brief moment later when the squeezing released and Peter’s jaw dropped open at the sight before him. Star clusters in the distance so closely knit they emitted light like a sun, spotting the darkness further than Peter could ever hope to see. A few planets revolved nearer by, but Peter knew they were desolate, he’d seen enough abandoned planets to recognize one on sight, and the two closest had clearly been forsaken long ago.

“What was this place?” Peter asked.

“Not really sure,” Yondu said, “lotta stories, the sol, think Terran’s call it the sun, but once that’s gone, life’s gone, ‘n now it’s just a broken solar system. A highway between places that everybody’s forgotten.”

“Wow, Yondu,” Peter looked at the Captain sincerely, “you should write poetry or something.”

“Shut up, Pete,” Yondu growled.

“No, seriously,” the young man tried to suppress a chuckle, “That was deep.”

“I’m warnin’ y’kid,” the Captain smirked.

“I’m just sayin’,” Peter continued, “you could have a career in greeting cards or somethin’.”

“A’right fine,” Yondu grinned wickedly and tapped his controls, effectively taking over the piloting systems on the craft.

“No, no, no,” Peter immediately stopped his joking, “I’m sorry, I was kidding, please, please, Yondu.”

“Jeezus, kid,” the Captain chuckled, flipping control back to the boy, “Do all Terran’s whine like you?”

Peter bit back a retort, afraid he’d lose his chance to pilot back. Yondu may have still been joking around, but the boy knew how quickly that could change with one wrong word.

For a little while, he let Peter fly around the abandoned planets, practicing some maneuvers he didn’t often have room for when they went on normal flying lessons. Much sooner than he’d liked, however, Peter was told to head back to the jump. The constrained feeling wasn’t as bad on the return, perhaps because Peter knew what to expect, but his heart beat rapidly with excitement at the sight of the asteroid field he’d forgotten about.

“You can go around it if y’want,” Yondu offered.

“You’re kidding, right?” Peter smirked at the Captain before turning his attention out the windshield and speeding up a bit as he approached the cloud.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading =)


	21. Kidnapped! Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 2
> 
> I promise part 2 will NOT take a month, but this became much longer than any of my others and well I like a little suspense so I'm breaking it up. I also wanted a chance to write from Kraglin's perspective as well as Peter. PROMPT REQUEST- Peter is kidnapped, I've had quite a few of you ask for this so I really hope you like what I did. CONTENT WARNING- I didn't go into detail, but just a warning that Peter's taken by child traffickers.

Kraglin honestly couldn't've cared less about stopping on Contraxia. The planet was boisterous and dirty, full of loose women and robot courtesans, practically indiscernible from each other. It wasn't that he completely despised the place, the First Mate just didn't enjoy the shoulder to shoulder atmosphere of the drinking establishments, or the loud, thumping music, he could definitely do without the flashing neon lights. So maybe Kraglin really didn't like Contraxia that much at all, but the Captain was convinced he'd enjoy it as he got older, saying it had more delights for men who'd passed their prime.

"Hey, Pete," Kraglin caught the gangly boy in the hallway after leaving his room with his heavy coat and gloves, "heard we're headed t'Contraxia?"

"Yeah," Peter's smile was full of excitement, the teenager loved making stops no matter where it was, "We're almost there!"

"I was thinkin'," Kraglin began, "you maybe wanna go sleddin' again?"

Peter shrugged, "Maybe, but Yondu said if I can see over the bar I can go in, 'n last time we were there I could  _almost_  see over the bar 'n I was like  _that_  tall then," he held a flat palm just above his hip, massively overexaggerating how short he'd been less than a cycle before, though admittedly he'd grown quite a bit.

"Yeah," Kraglin conceded his agreement, "but y'r'still gonna be small compared t'everybody else there, them places are kinda rough."

"I can handle myself, Kraglin," Peter scowled.

"Not sayin' y'can't, Pete," the First Mate insisted, "Just sayin' it might be good t'have a back up plan if the bar ain't all the fun y'think it'll be. Plus, they ain't gonna serve ya anyway. Where's the fun?"

"Horuz 'n Gef 'r gonna get me drinks," the boy said snidely.

"Does Capt'n know that?" Kraglin asked quickly.

"He won't care," Peter crossed his arms nervously.

"I bet he will," Kraglin challenged.

"C'mon, Krag," the young teenager whined, "Don't rat on me! Please?!"

"I won't, kid," the First Mate said indignantly, "but if y'think Capt'n ain't gonna notice you've knocked back a few y'r'crazy."

"I'll be fine," Peter scoffed, but raised his eyebrows in anticipation, "Will you come with us? They said they have games, that's the only reason I really wanna go."

"Yeah, maybe," Kraglin shrugged, "For a little bit at least."

"Cool," Peter said with an excited smile.

"We're comin' into the atmosphere soon," the First Mate jerked his head towards the control room at the end of the hallway, "C'mon."

"Hold on," Peter hurried into his bedroom, not bothering to close the door as he dug his heavy coat, hat and gloves out of the mess that was the boy's closet and snatched his Walkman off the unmade bed on his way out.

"Y'r'ready?" Kraglin smirked as Peter awkwardly pulled his coat on with one free hand while holding his hat and gloves between his chin and chest and trying to shove his Walkman in his pocket.

The boy made an agreeable grunting sound in response and the First Mate scoffed lightly before turning towards the command room at the end of the hall. Peter walked with him to the front of the ship, situating his belongings as he did, and they took their seats behind the Captain's chair.

"You boys strapped in?" their commander asked gruffly.

"Yes, sir," they answered together just before buckling their seatbelts.

The Captain's blue fingers tapped the hologram screen next to him, sliding and swiping until he found what he was looking for and, after he pressed a green circle in the corner, the screen disappeared. The Eclector lurched a little as the nose dipped and Contraxia was getting nearer every moment. Glancing to his left, Kraglin noticed the goofy smile that always spread across Peter's face when they descended, or were taking off, or if the boy was allowed to pilot, heck Peter just loved to fly. Kraglin grinned to himself, proud of the kid's talent at the controls, he'd taught him most of what he knew after all. Breaking through the atmosphere, Kraglin heard a stifled giggle from Peter and couldn't help a small chuckle, surprised the teenager still got so excited at something so typical to the First Mate, but he liked seeing Peter enthusiastic and hoped he'd always take pleasure in the little things.

As usual, the Captain set the giant ship down expertly and Peter tossed his seatbelt off, jumping to his feet the moment the Eclector shuddered to a gentle stop.

"C'mon, Krag," the boy said, shuffling towards the hallway, "Let's find Horuz 'n Gef!"

"Woah, hold up, kid," the Captain grunted as he pushed himself out of the pilot's chair, "Where y'think y'r'headed?"

Peter whipped around on their commander with a scowl, something that instinctually made Kraglin's stomach lurch, expecting the man to explode at the insubordination, but the Captain had much more patience for Peter than the rest of the crew.

"The bar," Peter said slowly, "you said I could."

"Did I?" the Captain raised an eyebrow and Kraglin knew he was messing with the boy, amazed that Peter still didn't realize after all the times he'd fallen for it, though it was funny to watch him get riled up.

"Yes, you did!" Peter exclaimed, "You said I could go in the bar if I can see over it-"

"Guess we'll hafta see then, huh?" the Captain nearly smiled, but managed to keep a straight face.

"Yondu!" Peter almost stomped his foot, but Kraglin caught him consciously lower his boot gently from the few inches he'd raised it off the floor and tried to calm his voice, "Horuz 'n Gef were gonna take me, I already told them I could."

It was finally too much for the man and his pointed teeth flashed as his expression broke into a chuckle, "Yeah, yeah, whatever, kid, I know what I said," he shook his head before setting his red eyes on the First Mate, "Watch out f'r'him, Kraglin, make sure nobody tries t'give him any booze."

Kraglin forced his eyes not to roll and held a heavy sigh in his chest, "Yes, sir," well, there went his nonexistent plans.

"C'mon!" Peter said eagerly, pushing Kraglin towards the hallway.

"Jeez, Pete, relax," the First Mate scoffed, taking a quick side step so Peter nearly toppled over as the force he was applying to Kraglin's back met thin air, "I'm goin', I'm goin'."

Kraglin walked only slightly faster than his usual pace towards the open hatch, taking a little pleasure in the disgruntled looks Peter was tossing over his shoulder as the teenager tried to hurry him to the exit. It seemed the entire crew was clamoring to get through the hatch at the same time, causing a tight congestion at the end of the hallway and Kraglin couldn't help a small laugh when the Captain slowly strode up behind them while Peter bounced on his toes and barked at the Ravagers to move faster.

"You boys goin' t'Medusa's Inn?" the Captain asked, slipping his heavy fur gloves over his blue hands.

"S'what I figure, sir," the First Mate nodded, "I just got roped into this, guess Horuz 'n Gef made these plans with him."

"Well, you just watch him, alright," it was an order, not a request.

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded again, "Pete just wants t'play the games they got, I'll make sure nobody serves him 'r nothin'."

The Captain offered a curt nod, but nothing else.

The crew was finally dispersing through the open hatch and Kraglin followed Peter into the snowy field they'd landed on, remembering his first trip to Contraxia after being with the Ravagers for only a few months. He'd been around Peter's age now, but Kraglin had never had the opportunity to be as innocent as the boy. Peter had come to them as a child and, while he'd certainly seen some traumatic things, the Captain and First Mate had a sort of unspoken understanding to keep Peter's goodness as intact as possible.

That wasn't to say they didn't encourage plenty of underhanded skills, Peter was an extremely stealthy thief and a good fighter for his size, not to mention he had the makings of a crafty negotiator. Kraglin was often stunned by the way Peter could convince other Ravagers, sometimes even the Captain, into doing things for him, hell, he'd found himself wrangled into helping the kid with chores on far more occasions than the First Mate would care to admit. He envied Peter for his silver tongue, talking had never been one of Kraglin's strong suits.

He hadn't spoken much to anybody before sneaking aboard the Eclector, there wasn't much of anybody to speak to when he'd lived on Xandar. Skipping from behind one shop to another when the proprietor would notice his presence and chase the little orphan away. There had been an older lady who'd taken pity on him once, but, when her husband realized she was bringing him leftovers from their dinner, young Kraglin had had to sprint from the back door of the shop before the man reached him with a large knife that still had a chunk of meat hanging from the blade. The First Mate shook his head at the memory, remembering at the time how that small bit of dangling meat had teased his thoughts the rest of the day, unaffected by the viscous attack.

Peter had run a little ahead and Kraglin grinned to himself, bending to cup snow between his hands, forming it quickly into a large ball, "Hey, Pete!"

The boy turned around at the perfect moment for the snowball to smack right into his already rosy cheek and Kraglin laughed, hard.

"Y'r'dead!" Peter yelled, though there was a distinct giggle in his voice.

Neither wasted a moment, gathering snow in their gloved hands while keeping an eye on the other. Peter didn't have Kraglin's patience, tossing his ball hardly a moment after he'd formed it and a cloud of snow filled the air between them as it disintegrated before even coming close to its target. Kraglin chuckled as he hurled a well packed snowball at Peter, catching the boy in his gut.

"Hey!" Horuz's gruff voice yelled and the two looked at him waving his arms at the edge of the field, lights from the city flashing in the sky behind him, "You two comin' or what?!"

Kraglin and Peter shared a smirk before calling together, "Yeah!" and dipping down the moment Horuz turned his back, gathering more snow in their hands.

The First Mate pressed and smoothed the snow in his gloves a bit more deliberately than he had before, knowing Peter was watching and mimicking his actions. The two stifled their laughter, each cupping their snowball at their side while walking towards the end of the field.

Gef had joined Horuz and the two were joking about something, a perfect moment of distraction and a target for each. Kraglin raised his eyebrows at Peter and the boy's pink cheeks framed a mischievous smile just before they both took aim and the First Mate's snowball smashed into the side of Horuz's head while Peter's broke apart on Gef's thick neck.

In their moment of hysterical laughter, Kraglin and Peter almost didn't realize how quickly Horuz was approaching on them, Gef was busy trying to shake the snow out of his collar, but the other man had recovered instantly, and he was not happy.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Horuz barked without a bit of amusement in his tone.

"It was just a joke, Horuz," Kraglin insisted, still laughing, as he dodged the older, slower man's lunge.

"I'll show you a joke," Horuz growled and snatched at Peter, but the boy scurried away, hiding behind the First Mate.

"Aw, c'mon, Horuz," Gef scoffed, digging his hand down his collar and pulling out a chunk of snow between his fat fingers, "Y'r'shirt didn't even get wet, 'n it was kinda funny."

"See?" Kraglin urged, pushing Peter as he backed away from Horuz, "There's plenty'a snow, no one's stoppin' you from gettin' us back."

"Oh, I'll get'cha back alright," Horuz said sinisterly.

"Hey, I'm thirsty over here guys," Gef yelled.

"After you," Horuz jerked his head and Kraglin side-eyed him while pushing Peter to walk towards the city in a diagonal away from the angry Ravager.

"Is Medusa's Inn the same place we saw Horuz last time?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, Dusa's is kinda the hang out here," Kraglin said.

"Y'r'gonna have a great time, Pete," Gef assured him, a bit out of breath from the small hustle to Kraglin's side, "Horuz tells me the ladies tend t'like y'too huh?"

Kraglin felt his nose hairs crack with the frigid cold when his nostrils flared, but he bit his lip on the bitter words he wanted to say, having already assumed the only reason Horuz would offer to take Peter anywhere was for his own gain.

"I dunno," Peter shrugged.

"He's a natural," Horuz commented without a trace of anger in his tone, "Trust me, the girls just  _find_  him, they think he's cute 'r somethin'."

Gef scoffed, "Why?"

"Hey," Peter scowled.

"Sorry, kid," Gef shrugged, "I just don't see it, y'r'kinda funny lookin' t'me, but y'r'pro'lly in that awkward part'a growin'."

"Puberty," Peter said slowly.

"What'd you call me?" Gef seemed honestly offended.

"No, Gef," Kraglin shook his head, "that's what Terran's call  _that_  part'a growin' up."

"Oh," Gef nodded before furrowing his brow at Kraglin, "How the hell d'you know that?"

"That book Capt'n has," the First Mate shrugged, "Kinda interestin', their cultures 'n all, just sort'a read it."

"All of it?" Peter asked in awe.

"It took me a little while," Kraglin admitted.

"That thing's  _huge_!" Peter laughed.

"Like I said," Kraglin just more than muttered, "it was kinda interestin'."

"Well, boys," Horuz extended an arm in front of himself, directing their attention to the main strip, specifically the overflowing bar on the corner, "I find this  _incredibly_  interestin'. What say you?"

"I say drink," Gef strode towards the bar, clapping a hand on Horuz's shoulder and dragging his friend along.

"C'mon, boys!" Horuz called.

Kraglin looked down at Peter and sighed, "Y'sure y'wouldn't rather go sleddin'?"

"Nope," Peter grinned and the older rolled his eyes before gripping the boy firmly, yet gently, by the back of his neck and pushed him through the crowd into the bar after Horuz and Gef.

Kraglin shook his head in the smoky haze of the drinking establishment, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the flashing colored lights in the mostly darkened room. Peter leaned into him a bit as they passed the bar where a particularly dense group of patrons were crowded, but Horuz and Gef managed to snag a table near the back and the two pushed their way towards them.

"Pete," Gef pointed to a line of brightly colored machines, "Win me some money, huh?"

Peter's eyes lit up and he shuffled towards the singing machines, but Kraglin grabbed the boys collar, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

"Y'got money?" Kraglin asked, remembering Peter depleting his small amount of funds the last time they'd stopped on Xandar.

"I've been savin' from the last few jobs," the boy said a bit indignantly.

"Y'wanna order somethin' t'eat first?" Kraglin rolled his eyes, still not relenting Peter's collar as the teenager tried to tug out of his grip.

"Oh, yeah I guess," Peter shrugged, following Kraglin to the booth and sliding in next to him, "What'd they got?"

"You'll love it, kid," Gef insisted, "everything here is fried in oil, real comfort food, ain't very good for ya I bet, but man it tastes good."

"Hey, guys, what can I-" the pink skinned waitress paused at their table and her bright blue eyes stopped on Peter as she smiled, "Oh! Well aren't you adorable!"

The boy blushed, his cheeks nearly matching the waitress's natural tone, but Kraglin caught Horuz nudge Gef with his elbow across the table and the First Mate expelled a quiet sigh.

"Is he y'r'little brother?" Kraglin was surprised to find the waitress's question directed at him and choked on his words.

"Uh, sorta, I guess," Kraglin managed finally after clearing his throat, "somethin' like that."

"I'm a Ravager," Peter told her with a bit of bitterness in his tone.

"Of course you are, and certainly one of the best lookin' ones I've seen in here," the waitress crooned and Kraglin grimaced at the slight condescension, knowing a bruise to Peter's pride often resulted in boiling of his anger.

"He's got a ways t'catch up with me," Horuz chuckled, earning a little snarl of disgust from the pretty woman.

"Can we get an order of the fried ost?" Gef asked with a smile, but winced when Horuz's elbow caught him in the side under the table.

"I'll put that in," she nodded, "Drinks?"

"We'll take a round," Horuz said gruffly.

The waitress raised on eyebrow and shifted her gaze first to Peter and then Kraglin.

"Y'all still make that bubbly shake thing?" Kraglin asked.

"The Reebtoor?" she smiled.

"Yeah, that's it," Kraglin grinned back, nodding at Peter, "He'll take one'a those. You'll like it, trust me."

"I'll get that in for ya," the waitress winked at the First Mate, but her smile faded as she turned away, catching Horuz's eye before leaving the table.

"Well, Horuz," Gef laughed when she was out of earshot, "y'weren't wrong about the kid, but I think y'r'gonna need more help than that."

Horuz responded by punching Gef in the shoulder, hard, "Shut up, Gef."

"She was smilin' at you Kraglin," Gef continued in an attempt to further infuriate Horuz, but also succeeded in making the young man's ears turn a light shade of red.

"Shut up, Gef," Kraglin mumbled as the waitress approached with a tray of drinks.

She set Horuz's and Gef's in front of them quickly before putting Peter's down with another grin, but she let her smile linger on Kraglin while her hand stayed on his drink for a few moments longer than it should have.

"Are you just here for the day?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Kraglin stammered a bit after realizing she was addressing him, "Pro'lly be back in the air in the mornin'."

"Well, I'll be outta here in a just a little bit," she shrugged her shoulders almost nervously, "maybe I could show you around."

"I've been here lots'a times-" Kraglin's statement stopped as he inhaled sharply at the pain in his shin and caught Gef staring wide-eyed at him across the table, "but, yeah, y'know, I'd uh, love to, I just gotta watch the kid here."

Gef loudly insisted he was very capable of watching the boy at the same time Peter exclaimed he didn't need anyone to watch him. Kraglin felt warmth rise in his cheeks, but the waitress just giggled.

"Well, if you change y'r'mind," she offered another wink to the First Mate and walked away from their table.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Gef laughed, hardly before she'd gone.

"Me?" Kraglin scoffed, "Y'nearly broke my leg with that fat foot'a yours!"

"I don't need a babysitter," Peter grumbled, still stuck on his own part in the conversation.

"Pete," Kraglin sighed, "Capt'n asked me t'keep an eye on ya, we're just hangin' out, nobody's callin' you a baby."

"Does a hell of an impression," Horuz growled before sipping his drink and Peter responded with a rude hand gesture.

"Y'like that?" Kraglin nodded at the frothy beverage in front of Peter, trying to change the subject.

With a scowl still on his face, the teenager took a swig. He wiped the foam from his lips to reveal a near smile, "Awesome."

"Thought y'd'like it," Kraglin said, "Capt'n used t'get me those when I was 'bout y'r'age, though these assholes still snuck booze in 'n I'd be walkin' back t'the ship sideways by the time we left."

Horuz and Gef chuckled and Kraglin was happy to have lightened the mood.

"I'll never forget when you lost y'r'liquor all over the Capt'n's boots!" Gef laughed, clapping a hand on Horuz's shoulder as the other Ravager joined in his amusement, Kraglin considered he may have lightened the mood too much.

"Oh, hell was he mad!" Horuz commented in between laughter, "I thought he was gonna skin ya!"

"If I remember right," Kraglin grumbled, "he wasn't too happy at all'a you who helped get me there."

"Naw," Gef shook his head, his laughter subsiding, "but it was worth the beatin' t'watch that."

Kraglin had to keep himself from scowling across the table, remembering the day quite well despite his inebriation, although he was much soberer after vomiting on the Captain's feet. Their commander had dragged the boy by his collar through the hatch of the Eclector and had no less than thrown him in the little cell that had been his room at the time, barking the order to 'get y'r'self together' and leaving the shivering teenager alone. He'd seen the evidence of the beatings a few of the crew members had endured at the enraged Captain's hands, though none of them seemed truly any worse for the wear. Kraglin, however, remembered so clearly the belt lashing against his backside he could almost feel it when the memory crossed his mind. It had been the second time the Captain had punished him, definitely the most severe of those two, and he was determined never to feel it again. Which he'd successfully accomplished until Peter showed up and encouraged the First Mate to disregard an order, though Kraglin couldn't fault Peter for a decision he'd made and had accepted his first strapping from the Captain in quite some time after Peter broke his leg. He'd have preferred a beating, like the rest of the crew received, but his experienced leader had shut down the idea without reason and belted the young man until tears flowed freely. That, Kraglin was sure, was the last time.

"Y'hearin' me, Kraglin?" Horuz said loudly and the First Mate shook his head from the trance of bad memories.

"What?" he asked.

Horuz sighed, "I said, y'better be plannin' on meetin' up with that girl later. She's a sight, 'n if she works here she ain't got time t'be a trick."

"A what?" Peter asked.

"Nothin'," Kraglin said automatically.

"Y'know what a prostitute is?" Horuz's question was louder than Kraglin's response and Peter nodded at the man, "Just another word for 'em."

"Thanks," Kraglin rolled his eyes.

"What?" Horuz scoffed, "He ain't a little kid, that's stuff he should learn."

"Yeah," Peter agreed with a soft slam of his fist on the table and Kraglin shifted his gaze at him with a raised eyebrow, assessing the gangly boy to his left.

He was nearly Kraglin's height and showing signs of maturity in his face, though a few, small pimples under the fuzz on his chin maintained his youth. The two had been keeping track, since determining the approximate time difference on Terra, and Peter was almost fourteen now, still full of boyish tendencies while stepping closer to manhood every day. He wasn't sure if it was the idea of Peter becoming independent that scared him, or if the teen's ageing reminded him constantly of his own, but Kraglin didn't particularly like how quickly the kid was growing up.

"Just don't be showin' off any new vocabulary t'the Capt'n," Kraglin warned.

"No shit," Peter muttered and the First Mate couldn't help a smirk catching a little darkening in the colors of his cheeks.

"Y'gotta go out with her, Kraglin," Gef insisted, "You deserve some fun."

Kraglin nodded his head to the side a little as he conceded to himself that that was true, but the Captain had told him to watch out for Peter.

"Kraglin," Horuz said gruffly, "I got the kid, you go with that girl."

"I shouldn't," Kraglin said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Krag," Peter sighed, "I'll be fine, really. She's pretty, you should have some fun."

"She is pretty," Kraglin smirked, glancing towards the kitchen where the young woman was putting a hot plate on her tray.

"Just go," Peter urged, "I'll be fine."

"Y'sure?" Kraglin felt his stomach twist with guilt as he asked.

"Kid," Horuz raised on eyebrow and lowered his voice, staring hard at Kraglin who he only occasionally still called 'kid' when he was trying to make a point about being older and more experienced, "Go, y'r'gonna regret it if y'don't."

"Might regret it if I do," Kraglin muttered, keeping an eye on their waitress as she expertly maneuvered through the crowd.

"We'll make sure the prince here gets back t'the castle safe," Horuz jerked his head at Peter who snarled, but had nothing to say to refute the claim, if the Eclector was a kingdom the teenager would most certainly be the prince.

"Order up," the pretty pink girl smiled at Kraglin and Peter as she set the fried ost in the middle of the table, "Can I get you boys anything else t'drink?"

"I'll take another," Horuz pushed his empty bottle to the end of the table and stared impatiently at Kraglin.

"I, uh," the First Mate stammered as he began, but gained confidence when his eyes met hers, bright blue and smiling at him, "if the invitation's still open, I'll take y'up on that tour."

"I'd like that," the girl's complexion turned a near purple, "I'm Nassina."

"Kraglin," his voice cracked just slightly as he introduced himself and Kraglin's ears burned hot.

Nassina's smile widened and she whipped around, leaving their table faster than she had previously. Kraglin expelled a heavy sigh, though he felt anything but relieved.

"Oh man," Peter groaned and the First Mate turned to the teenager stuffing a third, fried ball in his mouth, "veese are so good!"

Kraglin hardly had any of the fried ost, his attention constantly dragged away by Nassina as she wove in and out of the crowd around the bar. Peter asked if he could finally go play games and Kraglin had barely registered the question before waving him away absently, the teenager had promptly bolted to the flashing machines.

Nassina caught his eye in the crowd and pointed to the front exit with a sneaky grin, Kraglin nodded his understanding with a similar expression.

"Maybe I should-" the First Mate began.

"Go!" Horuz and Gef yelled together.

"We've got the brat," Horuz nodded in the general direction of the lottery machines.

Kraglin sighed, offering the Ravagers a grin of appreciation and slid out of the booth. He shifted until he caught a glimpse of Peter, happily pounding the screen of the game on the end nearest the table and considered if he should let the kid know he was leaving, but when Peter threw his head back laughing as the machine flashed and buzzed excitedly, Kraglin figured he'd let him have his fun too.

Nassina was standing beyond the crowd out from of Medusa's Inn, her furry white coat contrasted well with her pink complexion and her blue eyes were even brighter in the foggy light of late afternoon. He had no idea why she wanted to spend time alone with him, but Kraglin was happy she did and an unintentional smile refused to leave his face as he approached the pretty girl.

* * *

Peter had no idea why Kraglin would've wanted to take him sledding again when the bar was finally an option. He knew the First Mate wasn't a huge fan of the party scene, but found it hard to believe he couldn't enjoy the rambunctious atmosphere once in a while. When Horuz had invited him along to Medusa's Inn before they landed on Contraxia, Peter had been wary of the offer, but when Gef insisted he join them the teen felt more at ease. The dopey, goggle-eyed Ravager had never been mean to him or joined in with those who were. Still, he wanted Kraglin to be there, just in case.

That did not mean, however, that he needed Kraglin to watch him and found himself rather offended when Yondu insisted the he keep an eye on Peter, Peter was sure the First Mate would've stuck around just to hang out, but then Yondu had to make it an order. Of course, like all orders Peter received or witnessed from the Captain, its simple presence made the boy feel the need to rebel against the command, regardless of how reasonable it may have been. So naturally, when the opportunity presented itself for Kraglin to abandon him for a few hours, Peter urged him to take it.

The games at Medusa's Inn were nothing like the arcade machines he'd played on Earth, these were much more advanced and extremely graphic. After nearly having his bangs singed off by the dragon he was supposed to be stealing treasure from, he'd switched to a different game. It seemed most of the patrons gave up on the machines after losing a few units, but Peter found himself winning as often as he lost, allowing the teenager to play nearly unlimitedly and spent a little while on each machine as he moved down the row.

After earning slightly more than he'd started with at the last game, a piloting simulation, Peter shoved his money in the inside pocket of his thick coat and turned to find Gef and Horuz. Another group was sitting at their table. Peter looked around, though it wasn't easy to get a good look in the dense crowd, most of which was significantly taller than him. He pushed his way towards the exit, his gut sinking at how much darker it was outside than when they'd arrived, not to mention there was no sign of Horuz or Gef no matter which way Peter turned his head.

He took his hat and gloves from one of the several pockets in his warm coat and shoved the hat on his head, pulling the gloves on as he squeezed through bodies until finally finding the end of the crowd.

"Screw those guys," Peter grumbled, unsurprised Gef and Horuz had left him at Medusa's Inn, but still hurt.

He grabbed his Walkman from another pocket, shoved his headphones on and started walking through the city, back to the massive field hosting the Eclector for the night. Listening to  _Come and Get Your Love,_ Peter wished he'd told Kraglin to stay, but that thought made him feel guilty and then replaced that wish with hoping he was having a really good time with Nassina. She was very pretty. Peter found it a little strange that he'd think a girl with pink skin was pretty, not that there was anything wrong with that, it just wasn't exactly the norm where he was from, but after visiting so many planets and meeting different species of mamalien, Peter supposed it was perfectly normal for him to find all types of girls pretty. Especially now, now he sometimes found the monotoned voice in his language programs attractive, goddamn hormones.

A hand gripping his shoulder made Peter jump as he tore the headphones off his ears and turned away from the unfamiliar approach, greeted with the sight of two very tall men, both so pale skinned they nearly matched the snow surrounded them.

"Hey, kid, you lost?" the one with cool hazel eyes asked.

"I'm fine," Peter said confidently, but he felt his chest beating faster for some reason, perhaps because he'd gotten far enough away from the congested part of town that the few witnesses around were not exactly reliable for any sort of assistance, he could still hear the song playing in the headphones clutched in his fist.

"Y'r'with some guys earlier?" the other asked, his dark green eyes seemed almost honest, but Peter knew better.

"I told'ja I'm fine," he said again, gritting his teeth together to avoid his voice shaking.

"Y'sure?" the first scoffed, "Cause they're lookin' for ya."

Peter's eyebrows raised reflexively and he considered for a moment that these men were telling the truth. He was nearly back to the ship, Horuz and Gef could meet him there. On the other hand, however, if Horuz and Gef were still having fun at the bars and Kraglin was out with Nassina, it might be the perfect chance for Peter to have a drink, or three.

"Where are they?" he asked the pair of pale men.

"We're headed back there," the one with almost honest eyes jerked his head in invitation, "C'mon."

Peter hesitated for a moment, inherently reaching for his blaster, but it wasn't there. It had been an argument between him and Yondu the moment he'd told the teenager they were stopping on Contraxia. The Captain was convinced Peter would do something stupid with the gun, refusing to concede the ruling despite Peter's insistence that he wouldn't use it unless he had to, even Kraglin had tried to defend him, but a sideways glare from Yondu had shut the First Mate up quickly. So here he was, in a decision to trust two strangers who, despite his exceptional fighting skills, could probably overpower him, and the kid didn't even have the stupid taser blaster. The ship seemed a better option and Peter was wishing he'd gone sledding instead.

"C'mon, kid," the other one insisted and the bitterness in his tone solidified Peter's decision.

"Naw," he shook his head, backing away a few steps, "If y'see 'em you can tell 'em I went back to the ship."

"Alright, I'm done," hazel eyes growled, lunging at Peter and seizing him by the wrist.

"GET-" Peter began to yell and attack the man, but the other quickly joined and the skinny teenager found himself smothered by a thick fur mitten, his arms and legs pinned.

He wriggled and twisted as much as he could, biting into the glove as hard as he could, hoping to find the hand beneath. The men hissed at each other, but Peter's ears couldn't focus on the words as anything more than sound as he fought with everything he had, unable to breath under the thick fur. In an unexpected moment, the glove fell away and Peter gasped, but, before a scream could erupt from his lungs, a fist connected with the side of head and the world went black.

Peter's head throbbed. He was laying on his back, not wanting to open his eyes, hoping he was in his room, but knowing he wasn't, Yondu wasn't in the habit of tying the kid to his bed. Voices finally piqued his interest enough to squint, wanting to find the source of the conversation before the speakers noticed he was awake.

"How?!  _HOW_  could you do this!" a deep, angry voice Peter had never heard before sounded close, but the further he opened his eyes and peered around the room, there was no one else there.

There was, however, a partially open door, offering the only source of light in the dark room.

"You said you wanted kids!" Peter recognized the hazel eyed man's voice.

"You KNOW what Ravager flames look like!" the powerful, angry voice barked.

"We told'ja," Hazel Eyes tried, "we couldn't see his jacket, I ain't ever seen a kid in a Ravager crew. Them fellas he was hangin' around didn't seem to want to have much to do with him, figured he was just a kid tryin' to hang with the men."

"Sir?" the other, the one Peter had thought looked like he had a hint of kindness in his green eyes, spoke timidly, "What should we do with him?"

"I don't damn well know yet, you idiot!" the angry man called Sir snapped.

"Should we put him with the rest'a the kids?" Green Eyes asked.

"I said I don't know!" Sir yelled, "Damn you both!"

"We didn't wanna get into the kid side'a this," Hazel Eyes grumbled.

"What did you say?" Sir hissed.

"I just," Hazel Eyes stammered, "we were doin' fine with the girls, y'know, 'n at least they, like, agree, but kids, it's just," his words trailed into nothingness or he was speaking so low Peter couldn't hear no matter how hard he strained, sliding his rope-like bindings on the metal bed frame quietly.

"Just what?" Sir's question cut through the air, silencing even their breathing, and Peter halted his wrists, "Well," the seething man continued, "Just what?"

"Nothing, sir," Hazel Eyes muttered, "I'm sorry."

"My clientele's preferences are none of your business," Sir said firmly, "I have not sacrificed any of my other business ventures for this one, it is simply in addition to what we already offered, an  _off the menu item_ , only those who want to order it know about it."

"And you're okay with that?" Green Eyes's question was so honest and full of dismay Peter almost felt bad for him, almost.

"Their preferences are not for your judgement either!" Sir shouted and Peter heard two hard smacking sounds, followed by the gasps and quiet whimpers of both men, "Now," Sir began again calmly, "I want you to take that boy back to wherever the hell it is you found him. Rough him up a bit, they'll think he just got jumped."

"Yes, sir," both responded and Peter's heart raced, moving his wrists against the metal frame faster, sure he'd heard the soft snapping of rope fibers.

"Make sure nobody sees ya," Sir ordered, "last thing I need is some Ravager faction blackmailin' me for cash every time they stop through."

Peter heard footsteps approaching the door just as the bindings on his right wrist shredded from the friction against the sharp metal and he pulled at the other, snapping it with just a little extra force. Just as the door opened, the teenager snatched a broken metal pole leaning against the wall under a grimy window, shoving the jagged end towards the surprised men.

"You touch me I'll kill you," Peter managed to keep his voice from shaking by gritting his teeth and growling the threat.

The pale men's eyes widened at the teenager, both stopped just inside the doorway, but shoved aside in a moment as another man, half their size and hardly more muscular than Peter narrowed his eyes dangerously on the boy.

"Don't mess with me you little-" the angry, little man began.

"Or what?" Peter scoffed, his fear fading at the sight of someone he could easily best in physical combat.

"Maybe you don't make it back to your crew," Sir said in a calm, yet terrifying voice, sending a shiver down Peter's spine, "Look, kid," he took a step towards the teenager and Peter raised the pole, but the thin man seemed unaffected by the threat, "My,  _associates_ , here, made a mistake. You are not the right  _fit_  for our, work force."

"Kids?" Peter scoffed angrily, "What're you nabbin' kids off the street for?"

"Nothin' that concerns you," Sir answered patiently.

"Like hell it doesn't," Peter growled, "I'm here. I'm concerned."

The man chuckled and shook his head, "Most'a the Ravagers I know don't like to involve themselves in things that aren't going to make them money if they can help it. So, are you a Ravager or a hero?"

"Both," Peter said firmly and his ears perked at a distant noise, it sounded like his name.

Sir's head turned slightly and Peter knew he'd heard it too, neither quite sure what it had been until Peter heard the most wonderful, gravely bark of Yondu bellowing his full name, "PETER JASON QUILL!"

_**PART 2 COMING SOON! THANK YOU FOR READING!** _


	22. Kidnapped! Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 2 of 2

**_Fun fact- Medusa's is a real bar I sometimes unfortunately go to, not my proudest nights, but certainly my latest. Inn comes from the last half of my favorite bar. In other words I had no creative background for, there's no Old Norse word for soda so that thing Peter's drinking at the bar the Reebtoor, I'm sure some of you noticed its reversed relationship to Rootbeer. And I was pricing cars at work while trying to name the alien girl (not an easy task by the way) her name is 'a Nissan' backwords- I really brought it hard for you guys in the creativity department on some this is all I'm saying..._ **

**_Thank you for the feedback, so glad my Kraglin view is being enjoyed! Thank you for returning my readers and huge love to my reviewers :) Welcome new readers and I hope you stick around! I still take prompt requests, remember Peter is 14ish now and I'm not going backwards, also I'm a crazy stickler for accuracy so please don't feel offended if I use your idea differently than you intended, I just have to do it in a way I think makes sense for the story so it could be canon. I'll be returning to Peter's lessons, I always try to sprinkle that in, but it didn't make sense to have Yondu dropping him off at some space school. While I might read that if someone wrote it, I'm just so stuck in the 'it has to be accurate' mindset I can't do it. The most recent request for Peter to meet young Gamora not knowing it's her sparked an idea for me that I hope everyone will enjoy when I have time to sit down and write it, thank you! Please keep them coming!_ **

**_Thank you for being patient with me, I have been working a lot lately, but have not given up on my stories, besides my book at this point, that's a three day vacation I don't have the time for, but I work on these as often as I can so if it feels choppy I apologize, I write in a fishbowl while dealing with the general public, anyway please enjoy :) OH!_ **

**_WARNING- CONTAINS PARENTAL SPANKING OF AN ADULT CHILD WITH BELT (you're shocked I know- Is 'adult child' the right phrase? It's Kraglin, y'all know it's Kraglin)_ **

Kraglin returned to Medusa's Inn much later than he expected, having lost track of time walking around the city with Nassina. She'd taken him to a quiet corner store he'd never been and gotten hot drinks before continuing their leisurely journey through the busy streets. She'd complained her hands were cold and Kraglin offered his gloves, but Nassina had shaken her head, insisting she had a pair but didn't want to pull them out of her pocket. The First Mate found this reasoning silly, but when she slipped her thin, pink hand in his he realized he was silly for not understanding and squeezed her hand slightly.

Nassina had been impressed when Kraglin mentioned his rank in the crew, telling him the Ravager First Mates she'd met were usually old and never as good looking as him. That comment had caused the young man to blush nearly as deep as her pink complexion, but he managed a heartfelt thank you. The foggy day turned into dusk, darkening around them rapidly as the young couple tried to savor every moment they could. Kraglin was sure he was going to be in deep crap with the Captain for leaving Peter with Horuz and Gef, but, as the day had progressed, spending a little extra time with Nassina was worth it and the kid would be fine.

Medusa's Inn wasn't as crowded as it had been, but Kraglin still had to push through the remaining patrons towards the back wall to the gaming machines. He hadn't expected to find Peter still there, but figured he'd check before trekking back to the ship. Half way down the street, however, a familiar laugh caught his attention and Kraglin saw Horuz, Gef and Tullk leaving another bar.

"Hey!" Kraglin yelled, immediately enraged, "Where the hell is Peter?!"

"Relax, Kraglin," Horuz put his hands up defensively, "We saw him walkin' back t'the ship a little while ago."

"What the hell, Horuz?" Kraglin growled, "Gef, why'd y'leave him?"

Gef tried to answer, but Horuz interrupted bitterly, "We got bored at Dusa's 'n came down here, the kid was playin' games, he was fine, we were gonna go back 'n get him, but then we saw him walkin' to the ship."

"Y'r'such an asshole," Kraglin spat at him as he turned and walked faster towards the Eclector, ignoring the calls from his crewmates as his boots crunched through the snow.

He turned a corner to walk through a more desolate part of the city, just before reaching the field, and Kraglin stopped, sure he heard something strange and strained his ears to listen. High pitched tones twanged quietly, somewhere in the dark. Kraglin couldn't see much without the blazing streetlights from the main strip, but he slowly walked towards the tinging noise and his eyes widened when the outline of a small box was visible in the snow, surrounded by the evidence of a struggle. As his eyes adjusted in the blackened alley, Kraglin took in the exposed earth from boots sliding aggressively through the snow and bent over to pick up Peter's Walkman with a shaking hand. He lifted the headphones to his ears, hearing the ending of  _Come a Little Bit Closer_ , before clicking the device off and slowly wrapping the headphone cord around it absently, his heart racing.

"Kraglin!" Tullk yelled as he, Horuz and Gef walked through the mostly empty street, "C'mon, Capt'n just left Madame Morena's, he'll be here in a minute."

Kraglin's hands felt clammy, his gut twisting knowing the Captain was close and wanting nothing more than to pummel Horuz and Gef for leaving Peter alone.

"Kraglin!" Horuz called, "Y'comin' or what?"

"Shut up, Horuz!" Kraglin yelled, advancing on the Ravager as quickly as he could trudge his boots through the snow, "Just shut the hell up!" and connected his fist with Horuz's nose while clutching Peter's Walkman in the other hand.

Horuz stumbled a moment before lunging at Kraglin, who threw his force into the larger man and the two fell to the ground, fists flying.

"You left him!" Kraglin's voice broke a little as he yelled, wrestling the Ravager for control of the fight, "Why the HELL would you do that?!"

"Maybe," Horuz yelled as he flipped on top of the First Mate and socked him in the left temple, "you'll think twice next time y'wanna throw snowballs!"

Kraglin's anger boiled over and he threw the man to the side, pinning him to the ground, wrestling away from Tullk's grip as he laid one punch after another on any part of Horuz he could reach.

"You left him 'cause of a joke?!" Kraglin yelled.

"What the hell's goin' on?!" the Captain's angry bark ceased the tussle between the two far more effectively than Gef and Tullk's attempts to pull them apart.

"P-peter," Kraglin managed between shaky breaths, pushing to his feet.

"I told'ja he went back t'the ship!" Horuz yelled, still on the ground.

"And just left  _this_  layin' in the snow?!" Kraglin challenged, brandishing the Walkman at the Ravager, maintaining his tight grip as a strong hand tried to rip it from him, but released his hold when he saw it was the Captain.

Even in the dark, Kraglin could see fire growing in the man's red eyes, a rage he'd never seen in all the years he'd spent with the Centaurian.

"Sir, I'm sorry," Kraglin's anger finally relented to the fear he felt, "I know I was s'posed t'keep an eye on him, there was this girl, I just, I, I shouldn't've left him with these  _idiots_!"

"Where is he?" the Captain growled much calmer than Kraglin appreciated, knowing the man was boiling beneath his twitching lips.

"I don't know," Kraglin whispered, lowering his head and preparing for a hard smack to his ear, a typical move by the Captain when the First Mate screwed up, but it didn't come and he found himself wishing it had.

"The hell do you mean,  _you don't know_?" his commander's tone sent a shiver down Kraglin's spine.

"Capt'n," Horuz began tentatively, "we saw him walkin' back t'the ship just a little while ago, right after dark."

"Did he make it?" the Captain's question was harsh and Horuz lowered his gaze to his boots, "So, where the HELL is he?!"

"Excuse me," a small voice made all the Ravagers turn to an older woman wrapped in blankets, sitting just a few feet away on a curb and Kraglin wondered if she'd been there the whole time.

"What'd y'want, hag?" the Captain nearly barked, but the woman seemed unaffected by the verbal assault.

"I saw the boy," she said simply.

"Where?" Kraglin fell on one knee in front of the woman, "Who took him?!"

"He'll be gone by now," she said in the same serene tone, "they take children, 'n no one ever sees them again."

"Who?!" Kraglin begged.

"The men who match the ground," she looked at him with such light blue eyes they were almost translucent, "so pale you can't tell where they end and the snow begins."

"Cut out the riddles!" the Captain barked, yanking Kraglin to his feet by a rough grip on his collar, "Which way'd they go with the boy?!"

The old woman smiled slyly at their commander as a boney finger protruded from the ratty blanket around her and pointed down the alley next to where Kraglin had found Peter's Walkman. The First Mate didn't need further encouragement and tried to sprint in the direction she'd indicated, choking on his jacket from the firm grasp on his collar.

"Stay. With. Me," he growled in a low, dangerous voice and Kraglin just nodded, his mouth too dry to manage even the simplest 'yes, sir', and his collar was released roughly.

The Captain flipped his coat back, pulling the arrow from the holster on his belt and stalked down the alley with Kraglin on his heels, the others following closely behind.

"Capt'n," Kraglin began, finding his words again, "I'm so sorry, she was, but I didn't mean, I thought-"

"Shut up, Kraglin," the Captain said sternly, "First we find Peter, then you 'n I can talk about you droppin' the ball."

Kraglin shut his mouth, his gut churning with guilt and fear, uncaring what the Captain had in store for him after they found Peter, they just had to find him. His wonderful day with Nassina, even the kiss he'd gotten the courage to go for, slipped from his mind as tracking down the teenager became his entire focus. What had the woman meant,  _they take children 'n no one ever sees them again_? Who were these pale monsters preying on kids in the streets?

Kraglin was so engrossed in his thoughts he ran right into the back of the Captain as the man stopped quickly at the end of the alleyway, his raging red eyes narrowed at another street urchin huddled in the corner before opening up to the next road.

"You," the Captain's rough greeting earned him a look from the man, scruff covered so much of his face Kraglin could barely see the beady dark eyes peering from under a torn hood, "You see a boy get dragged through here?"

The man just looked down.

"Hey!" the Captain kicked him hard in the leg, though the man didn't seem to notice, "I asked you a question!"

"I don't get involved with other folks' problems," he muttered, his eyes still on the ground.

"Well y'r'gonna today," the Captain hissed, knocking the man's hood back and dragging him to his feet by his tangled hair, forcing contact with his fuming red eyes, "Tell me which way those two sickos took my boy 'r y'r'not gonna see tomorrow!"

Kraglin felt a pang of guilt and jealousy hearing the Captain call Peter  _his boy_ , not that it was surprising, but he'd never verbally admitted it before.

"Th-they we-nt th-that way," the hairy man stammered, pointing towards a section of town Kraglin had never been before, knowing nothing but the dirties of the population lived there.

The Captain dropped the man without thanks and strode so quickly in the direction he was given, the First Mate jogged to keep up. Kraglin notice the lighter blue skin of the Centaurian's knuckles clutched tightly around the humming arrow, he only took the arrow out when he aimed to kill.

"Peter!" the Captain called, opening up the invitation to Kraglin, and the First Mate started bellowing the boy's name, his blaster at the ready as they entered the depraved side of town.

Tullk took off in the direction he was pointed by their commander, as did Gef and Horuz, neither of who could raise their sheepish eyes to their fuming commander. Kraglin briefly hoped they'd be in as much shit as him, though knew neither would suffer as humiliating of a consequence, and then yelled at himself in his head to keep his focus, he could trust the Captain to give him what he deserved after they'd gotten Peter back.

"Sir?" Kraglin raised his eyebrows as he started jogging again to keep up with the now nearly purple man who had not given him an order.

"Stay with me, Kraglin," he growled.

Kraglin nodded and stayed near his commander's side. He couldn't believe himself for trusting Horuz and Gef to watch out for the kid, he knew better than that, and Kraglin's throat tightened on the personal anger boiling inside. While they ran between one broken down shack and another, the First Mate shook with fear and rage at his own decision making, Nassina was pretty, but he should not have left Peter. Kraglin found himself wishing he was already in the Captain's quarters receiving what he knew would be the worst licking of his life, because at least Peter would be safe in his room down the hall.

"Peter!" Kraglin yelled as loud as his he could without his voice cracking from the squeezing in his throat.

The Captain took a deep breath, hurrying passed the decrepit buildings with the First Mate at his side, "PETER JASON QUILL!"

Somewhere to their right, a window smashed a moment later and Kraglin ran towards it, the Captain having to keep up with him now.

"YONDU!" Peter's scream ended in a yelp, encouraging the First Mate to run faster than he even thought possible, his lungs hardly registering the lack of air as he followed the scuffling noises and noticed a hovel with light barely visible between the rotten slats of the frame.

"KRAGLIN STOP!" the order was frantic and the young man skidded to a halt, facing his commander with shaky, heaving breath. Kraglin grimaced in anticipation when the Captain's hand raised at him, but opened his eyes slowly at the firm grip on his shoulder, "I ain't riskin' losin' both'a you," the man said simply, "Fall in."

"Y-yes, sir," Kraglin nodded, flushing with an overload of emotions, but obeyed the order and followed his Captain towards the nasty little house.

Just as they reached the front door, however, it flew open and a thin man, who's balding head stopped halfway up the Captain's chest, seemed to be trying to smile at them, though it came across as more of a scowl.

"Gentlemen," he backed into the door, leaving room to pass into the house, "please come in."

"Where's Peter?!" Kraglin yelled, biting his lips together when the Captain's arm raised in front of his chest in a silent gesture to hold any words or actions he might be planning.

"The boy is inside," the scrawny man assured them, waving a hand in invitation, "he's perfectly fine I promise, truly I'd prefer he was gone, perhaps you can assist. You see, my,  _work associates_ , made a mistake and accidently picked him up thinking he was someone else, but, as I've said, he's perfectly fine and is ready to go on his way."

"Y'think I'm stupid?" the Captain growled and Kraglin could hear the arrow's hum increase in pitch, the blue fist clutching it vibrating with anger and power.

"I know nothing about you my good man and have no intentions of making guesses about your intelligence," the weaselly little man insisted, "Please, this monstrous boy is destroying my home, take him!"

A loud yelp followed by a whimper was quickly preceded by Peter shoving the thin man so hard at the doorway he toppled down the front stairs and landed on his face before the Captain and First Mate.

"Pete!" Kraglin exclaimed, uncaring if he stepped on the man to get to Peter, grabbing the boy from his shoulders and feeling down each arm through the thick coat, relieved not to find anything broken, "You okay?!"

The shaking teen opened his mouth to answer, but both their attentions were dragged by the animal-like yelp to the cowering man under the Captain's boot. Kraglin didn't relent his hold on Peter, which was helpful when a large, pale man with icy hazel eyes barreled through the door and the First Mate jerked the skinny teenager out of his path. A high-pitched whistle pierced over the man's growling attack noise and his hazel eyes bulged less than a moment later, his lips falling apart in silence just before he crumpled to the ground, his chest sizzling around the hole the arrow left.

"No, no, no!" the man still crushed under the Captain's boots cried, but dissolved into whimpers when the arrow hummed above his face, pointed directly at the man's squinting eye, "P-please, g-good si-r!"

"You took my boy," the Captain's face was contorted into a menacing smile, it was a look Kraglin knew meant death to whoever those red eyes held in their focus.

"It-it w-was a mis-take," he insisted frantically, "as I said, j-just a-a misss-take!"

"You in the habit'a nabbin' kids off the street?" the arrow sank an inch closer to the man's eye as the Captain growled.

"N-no!" the man shook his head slightly, obviously trying to squirm away from the deadly arrow humming just above his eye.

"I heard them!" Peter yelled and Kraglin held him firm as the younger tried to take a step forward, "He's kidnapped other kids, he's keeping them somewhere!"

The Captain's menacing smile widened at the man, "Lyin' t'me?" he clicked his tongue softly and shook his head, "I don't like that."

"N-n-no! No, he m-mis-understood!" the man begged, "I wouldn't-"

"There're 'bout four laws on this degenerate planet," the Captain hissed, "age 'n consent are two of 'em."

"No, p-please," the man cried, "you've got it wrong!"

"No he don't," another large, pale man appeared in the doorway, his head down in shame, but that didn't keep the First Mate from turning his gun on him, "I'll show ya where the kids are."

"IDIOT!" the man screeched, "Don't you-"

The man's rage was silenced as the arrow stabbed through his eye and out the back of his skull, the snow around his head grew in a dark puddle as blood seeped from the wound. Kraglin kept his blaster trained on the pale man with one hand while the other held Peter to his side without yielding, the large man in the doorway dropped to his knees and raised his hands to show they were empty.

"I didn't wanna do it," the pale man said in a trembling voice, "I didn't wanna deal with kids."

"Then why did ya?" Kraglin barked, shaking with anger now that his fear of Peter being hurt (or worse) had disappeared.

The man looked up at him with terrified green eyes, "Don't you do whatever yer boss tells ya?"

Kraglin didn't have a response, knowing the answer, and fighting a trail of memories he wished he could wipe from his mind. The First Mate didn't know if his commander would deal in something so depraved, truthfully, he didn't know what the Captain had done with those few children he remembered being on the Eclector, only briefly, before the Centaurian would slip away with the "cargo" in an M-ship, always returning alone. The last trip the Captain had made before they picked up Peter, Kraglin had seen terror in his red eyes when he'd returned and, while he never spoke about it, the First Mate knew his commander wouldn't accept any amount of money to make that trip again.

"Sure gave up y'r'boss fast t'save y'r'skin," the Captain stalked towards the cowering man, arrow tight in his fist.

"I hate my boss," the green eyed man grumbled, "Like I said, I never wanted t'get into this, not with kids, it ain't right."

"Where are they?" the Captain asked, holding his hand up to halt Gef, Horuz and Tullk skidding up behind him with their blasters ready to fire on the surrendered man.

"There's a shack out back," he jerked his head, speaking between quick, nervous breaths, "there's a room under it, you'll see the door in the back corner."

Horuz, Gef and Tullk took off at the jerk of their commander's head and disappeared behind the house.

"Please," the pale man begged, "I just wanted t'work at the brothels, freebies y'know, my brother 'n I did security, it was good, 'n then Mister Winestine here offered us a lotta money t'just work f'r'him, on like retainer y'know, 'n I didn't really wanna, but my brother, it was just so much money y'know."

"Was it worth it?" the Captain smirked dangerously.

He shook his pale head, his eyes finding the ground again.

"Y'understand y'took the wrong boy?" the Captain growled.

He nodded slowly, his eyes still focused on the ground.

"Capt'n!" Tullk's call was distant, but clear, "We found 'em!"

"Hey," the Captain made the man meet his green gaze with his raging red eyes, "I thank ya for pointin' us in the right direction."

The man expelled a gurgling gasp as the arrow was stabbed into his heart and the light behind the green in his eyes faded before his chest stilled.

* * *

Normally, when Yondu bellowed Peter's entire name it sent chills down the boy's spine, a sure sign he was in deep crap, but, as he'd stood in that dark room facing impossible odds against the three men, the teenager thought there wasn't a sweeter sound in the world. In a desperate attempt to reveal his location, Peter jammed the metal rod over his shoulder and smashed the small grimy window. The pair of pale men took the opportunity to lunge at the boy, one wrestling the pole from his grip as the other wrapping his massive arms around the scrawny boy.

"YONDU!" Peter screamed at the top of his lungs, but yelped as a sharp pain crossed his cheek.

"You little menace!" the thin man they called Sir reached his hand back and slapped Peter across the face again.

It had hurt, but Peter refused to cry out the second time, even if any sound would be muffled by the pale hand that quickly clamped over his mouth, keeping his focus on trying to muscle out of the strong arms of both large men.

"KRAGLIN STOP!" he heard Yondu yell, he wasn't far!

Sir scowled at him, but took a deep breath and addressed his men, "I'll deal with that, just get this,  _child_ , to calm down, I imagine he'll be leaving soon."

Peter had fought hard against the two holding him as he faintly heard Sir trying to sweet talk Yondu, trusting the Captain to see through the slimy, little man. A slight shift in the hand over his mouth allowed the brief invitation for him to spread his lips, bare his teeth and sink them into the man's skin. In the same moment he yelped and released Peter, the teen flung around and kicked the other in side of his knee before fleeing the room. Sir was in the doorway and Peter lowered his shoulder to bulldoze the man into the snow as he ran from the house.

Yondu was angrier than Peter had ever seen, his eyes actually glowing red in the dim lights of the run-down neighborhood. He tensed briefly as rough hands grabbed him, but relaxed when he saw it was Kraglin, shaking as he felt over Peter's arms and legs. The boy found himself feeling strangely guilty, hoping he hadn't ruined Kraglin's date, but, before he could say anything, even in response to the First Mate's inquire after his well-being, their attention was torn to the squeals of Sir as his head was pressed into the snow by Yondu's boot.

Kraglin held him tighter than Peter liked, though he did appreciate the secure feeling being right next to Kraglin gave him and didn't fight to be released.

While it was a little satisfying to know Yondu had killed Hazel Eyes and Sir, he'd heard the unmistakable sounds but had hidden his face in Kraglin's coat, something about the Captain sinking his arrow into Green Eyes's chest made the boy feel bad for the man. Not that he hadn't deserved it perhaps, he was part of the reason his Walkman was gone after all, but he'd been an unwilling participant in the child trafficking and Peter couldn't help a little guilt for the man.

A group of children ran around from the back of the house, not stopping to say thank you or even examine the bodies of the men who'd held them hostage, simply sprinting towards the city as fast as they could. Peter couldn't blame them and doubted Yondu's objective had been to earn himself a dozen hugs from dirty Contraxian children.

Tullk, Gef and Horuz appeared from around the side, barely glancing at the three bodies littered around their Captain.

"Back t'the ship," Yondu growled, "Horuz, Gef," the two stopped mid turn to await further instructions from their Captain, "Command room."

"Yes, sir," both grumbled and followed Tullk back the way they'd come through the broken-down houses towards the city to the field beyond where the Eclector was waiting.

"Yondu," Peter pushed off Kraglin gently enough that the First Mate let him go, obviously realizing the danger had passed, "Y'r'not mad at Krag too are ya?"

"Don't you worry 'bout who I'm mad at," Yondu growled, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded, "I'm okay, but I told Krag t'go with that girl! An Gef 'n Horuz-"

"Peter," Yondu interrupted the boy sharply, "It ain't y'r'concern. C'mere."

He approached the Captain begrudgingly, allowing his large blue hands to feel over his skull, neck, both shoulders down to his finger tips just as Kraglin had.

"I'm fine Yondu," Peter insisted, "Please don't, don't be mad at Kraglin, he didn't-"

"Pete," Kraglin said gently, "It's okay. Don't worry 'bout me, alright? We got you back, everythin's fine. Let's go back t'the ship, okay?"

Peter nodded and let Kraglin put his arm around his shoulder, leading him back through the tracks towards the Eclector. He was expecting a much longer walk to the city and was surprised when they were already through the alley, but then Peter supposed the side of the city better known for homeless citizens would serve as the perfect hunting grounds, especially if the hostage hold wasn't far away.

They walked through the hatch into the warm ship and Kraglin pulled his arm off Peter's shoulder.

"Oh, Pete, I almost f'r'got," Kraglin said, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling Peter's Walkman and headphones out, "Found it near that alley."

Peter's jaw dropped open seeing the device and threw his arms around Kraglin's middle, squeezing him in a very sincere, silent thank you, before taking the player eagerly in both hands.

"Thank you, Krag," he managed finally, fighting tears that stung his eyes, Kraglin smiled a bit awkwardly, clearly not having expected such a physical reaction.

"Why don'cha change 'n get t'bed, Pete?" Kraglin suggested, "Imagine it's been a long day f'r'you."

"Krag," Peter grimaced, slipping his headphones around his neck, feeling complete knowing they were there, "How was y'r'date?"

The First Mate smiled, "I'll tell y'about it later, but it was good."

"D'ja kiss her?" he asked.

"Geez, Pete," Kraglin scoffed, his ears turning red, "Maybe I won't tell y'about it later."

"A'right, I'm just kidding," Peter laughed, but then grimaced again, "Y'think Yondu'll listen? Y'know, 'bout Horuz 'n Gef sayin' they'd keep an eye on me?"

"Don't matter, kid," Kraglin shrugged, "I was s'posed t'do somethin' 'n I didn't, the why don't matter, just that I disobeyed an order. You know that."

Peter nodded, he did know that, it was almost always the reason for him being upended over Yondu's knee. Kraglin never disobeyed orders though and Peter thought the Captain should consider that before lumping him in with the two who'd broken their word. He honestly wasn't sure what Yondu hated more, a man going back on his word or being disobeyed by his crew.

"Kraglin," Yondu said gruffly as he passed the two in the hall, stalking towards the front of the ship, "My quarters, now."

"Yes, sir," the First Mate managed, but Peter heard the fear in his voice.

"Yon-" Peter had tried to call to the Captain, but Kraglin covered his mouth and pulled him into the boy's bedroom.

"Pete, c'mon," he said pleadingly, "don't make this worse f'r'me."

"I wasn't gon-" he protested.

"Please," Kraglin begged and Peter looked sadly at him before nodding his understanding, "Go t'bed, huh?"

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, "Just, just tell him the truth, okay? Don't take the fall f'r'them."

"Wouldn't dream of it, kid," Kraglin smirked and left the room, closing the door on his way out.

Peter sighed, hoping Yondu would forgive Kraglin without punishing him, but knew it was a futile hope. As the Captain had reminded him many times, the ship didn't run in the hopes that the crew would follow orders, it was only successful when everyone fell into their place. Disobedience was always punished.

He could hear the echoing grunts of Horuz, or Gef, taking a beating, trying to stifle their pain, but each blow was followed by an agonizing groan. Peter slipped his headphones over his ears, rewinding the cassette and rolling the volume control to maximum level. Horuz and Gef were getting what they deserved, if not less, and it didn't bother the teenager to hear them get theirs from the Captain, but he had to drown out the sounds of Kraglin when it came, that he couldn't hear.

* * *

Kraglin heard Gef's pained whimpers, trying to avert his eyes from the beating happening in the middle of the command room as he walked through, but part of him couldn't help a glance. Gef on his knees, begging the Captian to stop as he was dragged to his feet again before doubling over, falling back to the ground from the heavy blue fists that greeted his stomach in quick succession. Horuz knelt behind the Captain off to the side, watching and waiting for his turn. Kraglin knew better than to linger, nor did he want to, and shut himself in the Captain's quarters, not missing the glare Horuz gave him just before the door closed. The First Mate scoffed to himself, betting the older Ravager was jealous of some special treatment he assumed Kraglin received instead of a rather public beating like the rest of them, wondering if Horuz would still be jealous if he knew what the special treatment really was.

When the beating outside the double doors paused, Kraglin's heart beat faster. Horuz was clearly on the receiving end of the Captain's anger now and the First Mate knew he was next. He deserved it, he couldn't say he didn't. His commander had given him an order and, at the first set of long eyelashes batting at him, he'd abandoned his job, of course the absolute worst possible thing that could've happened did and that should be lesson enough to the young First Mate. Kraglin didn't often let loose, always taking flack from the others, the Captain included, to lighten up and have some fun, but the moment he did, it all went to shit.

He hadn't even realized the sounds of Horuz's beating had disappeared when the Captain's door swung open. Kraglin jumped to attention from where he'd been leaning on the man's desk, he didn't need to be told the steps, having already tossed his jacket on the back of the sofa, hating how familiar he was with this dance, and thought the Captain might go easier if he complied without being told. The desk was always where these exchanges between them took place.

The Captain approached, but didn't give an order and Kraglin stood, waiting for the dreaded command to bend over the desk, hoping he didn't have to take his trousers down.

"At ease, Kraglin," he said in a calm voice, "Tell me what happened."

"Sir?" Kraglin furrowed his brow, having never been told to explain his side before, disobeying an order didn't need explanation as to why.

"Tell me what happened," the Captain repeated slowly, crossing his thick arms in front of his chest.

"I, uh, well," Kraglin began and explained from the snowball fight to the bar, about Nassina offering to show him around and how they all told him he had to, but he shouldn't have, really he shouldn't, but he did, and then he saw Horuz and Gef at another bar on his way back before he found Peter's Walkman, and while they may've told him they'd keep an eye on him it was his job and he's the First Mate and Captain's orders trump everything so no matter what they said or did he screwed up.

"Was she pretty?" the Captain's question surprised Kraglin so much his mouth fell open.

"Uh, yeah," he stammered, "really pretty."

"D'ja kiss her?" he asked.

Kraglin blushed, "Yes, sir," he nodded, "I did."

The corners of the Captain's mouth tugged upward for a moment before he raised an eyebrow at his First Mate, "I'm not happy with how today panned out, Kraglin."

"No, sir," Kraglin agreed.

"Horuz 'n Gef told'ja they'd do somethin' 'n didn't do it," the Captain continued, "The chances of Peter gettin' nabbed like that," the man almost laughed, "I still can't believe it, 'n I know you've been beatin' y'rself up since you realized somethin' was wrong because if you'd followed the orders I gave you none of it would've happened."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin dropped his head shamefully.

"And I shouldn't've put that on you again," the Captain's statement made Kraglin look up in complete shock, listening hard as he continued, "I tell you t'have fun 'n then the few opportunities you have I've been makin' y'take care'a Pete. I put a lot on you Kraglin, I need t'remember that more often."

"Sir?" Kraglin breathed, in complete disbelief of the words he'd just heard.

"You almost never disobey me, boy," the Captain clapped a hand on his shoulder, "I'll stop puttin' so much responsibility over Pete-"

"No," Kraglin said suddenly, wincing immediately at his outburst, but continued at the silent invitation in the form of a raised eyebrow, "Sir, I'm sorry, but I'm okay with, I kinda like Peter as my responsibility. No body else would watch out for him like, I mean, I know I screwed up today, but-"

"Kraglin," the Captain interrupted his rambling, "You did screw up today, but that's in a long line of stops where you kept him perfectly safe, I ain't gonna take it away from you over a one in a million situation, not if it's important to you."

"It is, sir," Kraglin said.

"But, today," the Captain lowered his voice and the First Mate's gut churned, "Impossibly strange? Yes. But, even if Peter had made it back to the ship without any problems, what were you expecting my reaction to be when I found out you left him with Horuz 'n Gef? Gef, Kraglin?"

"I'm sorry sir," Kraglin said earnestly.

"Not an answer to my question," he growled.

"I, uh," Kraglin stumbled, "I expected a beatin'."

"She really was pretty, huh?" the Captain grinned and the First Mate blushed as he returned the expression.

His small smile faded, however, as the Captain undid the buckle on his belt and slid the hard, black leather from the loops.

"Trousers down," the man said simply and Kraglin gulped, fumbling with the fastenings on his pants as he turned to face the desk, yeah there was no way Horuz, or anyone, could be jealous of this treatment.

"Sir," Kraglin tried, his fingers in the waistband of his pants, but holding onto one last hope, "could you-"

"I'm not gonna pummel y'like the crew, Kraglin," the Captain said firmly, "Stop askin', 'cause I honestly don't care how old y'are. I beat the crew, 'n whip my boys, end of story."

Kraglin felt a bubble of warmth in his chest even as he shucked his trousers below his knees and laid across the smooth desktop. He was older than Peter, he had much more responsibility and was held to a higher standard, but he was still the Captain's boy.

"Why are we here, Kraglin?" the Captain asked and Kraglin grimaced, hating the question, but the punishment wouldn't begin until he'd answered.

"Because I disobeyed an order, left Peter at a bar 'n he got kidnapped, sir," the First Mate said as steadily as he could manage.

"Y'r'almost right," the Captain said, Kraglin sighed, his backside tingling with anticipation, "You disobeyed an order 'n left Peter somewhere you shouldn't'a, but you didn't know  _that_  was gonna happen, y'r'blame stops at you walkin' outta Medusa's without him, not what those sickos did."

"But if I'd-" Kraglin insisted, turning his head as much as he could without losing his position.

"Boy," the Captain said warningly, "I am whuppin' you for disobeying an order, the repercussions of your choice are the real punishment, 'n I know you've already been beatin' y'rself up pretty good. Let's get done here 'n let this be over."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin agreed, returning his gaze across the room as he adjusted his head into a slightly more comfortable position on the hard surface, finding himself almost relieved.

The Captain didn't say anything else and Kraglin heard the whoosh of the belt through the air as it struck his backside the first time, the pain took a moment to register, but as soon as it did, another landed directly below it. He knew it was no use trying to be stoic and hold back his cries, the Captain had never stopped before he was a teary, blubbering mess anyway, but the First Mate couldn't help biting his lip in an attempt to muffle the sharp inhales and high-pitched yelps. The belt bit across the tops of his thighs and Kraglin couldn't hold it in any longer, releasing a sob that was not manly in the slightest, but it was hard to be tough with the Captain lashing his belt across the young man's behind.

He didn't bother to count or beg the man to stop, simply gripping the edges of the desk to keep his hands from instinctually reaching back to block the attack. Tears were dripping onto the table as Kraglin cried, apologizing repeatedly between labored breaths as one red-hot stripe after another crossed his bottom, promising to never disobey the Captain again.

"I hope not, son," the Captain said gently and Kraglin registered the warm hand on his back, noticing the belt had ceased, leaving his backside in a state of throbbing pain.

"Capt'n, sir," the First Mate sniffled, wiping his eyes as he turned around and tried to stand at attention while pulling his pants gently over his behind, which was quite impossible to do together and his commander shook his head with a grin that told the young man he should be at ease, "I-I am, I'm really, really sorry."

"Pete's here," the man reminded him, "he's safe, you're safe, 'n I know this is never gonna happen again."

"No, sir," Kraglin promised.

"Get on t'bed then, boy," the Captain jerked his head at the door, "You, Horuz 'n Gef are cleanin' the whole fleet tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin said, sighing to himself, not at all looking forward to spending the entire day cleaning M-ships with a sore backside.

He looked at Peter's closed bedroom door before walking into his own across the hall and remembered hours ago when he'd wished he was being punished because then at least Peter would be safe in his room. Kraglin smiled, glad it was all over. Peter was safe and, while he'd be feeling the effects for some time, the belting was behind him. And  _that_  was definitely the last time, Kraglin was  _almost_  positive.

_**Thank you for reading and I would love to hear what you think if you have another minute to write a quick comment :)** _


	23. Halfway to Halfworld

_**Happy New Year! My goal this year is to update this story at least every 2-3 weeks, I know I've slacked on the updates and really appreciate you all sticking around for me. This is a molded prompt if you will, it's inspired by a reviewer who wanted young Peter to meet young Gamora and I really loved the idea, but Gamora was taken by Thanos and raised by him, there's just no way for me to bring Thanos and his craziness into this because I doubt Yondu and the Ravagers ever had any dealings with him- BUT I loved the idea and took it a different direction with another well loved Guardian of the Galaxy and gave a little back story to someone who very much deserves it. I hope you all enjoy!** _

"Are we meeting Kona today?" Peter asked Yondu for at least the fifth day in a row as soon as he saw the Captain in the control room.

Yondu's head fell back in obvious frustration as he sighed heavily before setting his narrow red eyes on the teenager, "Damn it, Pete, I don't know! I told'ja she'll contact me when she's close."

"I just don't want you t'forget-" he started, but was quickly interrupted.

"I ain't gonna forget y'r'batteries, kid," Yondu managed rather calmly through gritted teeth, "If you bother me about it again I very well might cross 'em off my list."

"No! Yondu, please," Peter gasped, but bit his lips together when the Captain raised a large hand for silence.

"Stop askin'," Yondu ordered and Peter nodded, "How y'doin' on that navigation module I told'ja to finish?"

"I'm workin' on it," Peter shrugged.

"Get it done," Yondu said firmly.

"It's easier to work if I can listen to music," Peter grumbled.

"Boy!" Yondu barked, "Cut the crap 'n get it done! You want those goddang batteries so bad, but'cha won't do a damn thing y'r'told to! So tell me again why I'm gettin' 'em for ya?"

"Fine, I'll do it," Peter rolled his eyes and sighed as he turned to leave the command room.

He'd flipped his Walkman batteries more times than he could count, changing the sets with the few other pairs he had, all of which were dead. Yondu had picked him up a pack the last time they'd run into Kona, the Sirian thief who made occasional trips to Earth in search of resources and novelty items she could sell to the highest bidder. Unfortunately, every single copper-topped cylinder was completely useless and Peter wasn't sure why he kept them except to torture himself, he'd spent hours with Kraglin trying to recharge one with absolutely no luck.

"The problem is, Pete," the First Mate had explained, "this is basically a tiny bomb that's meant t'discharge energy slow-like, we don't have any equipment that won't push so much power in so fast it won't just, y'know, boom."

Peter had been disheartened at the information, but understood why Kraglin didn't want to risk causing even a small explosion in the hangar. When Yondu had mentioned Kona contacting him for a meet soon, however, Peter couldn't help his excitement. It wasn't just the enticement of new batteries, he'd met the Sirian once before and made sure to thank her for the chicken noodle soup, she was definitely the kind of woman Peter couldn't get out of his head.

Kona was strong and spoke much more directly than any woman Peter had ever met before, her steely blue eyes were fearless and the small smile that hardly left her lips was perfectly smug. It was that mysterious smile that Peter had found impossible to forget.

"Hey, Pete," Kraglin knocked on the teen's open bedroom door, "Wanna help me get one'a the ships ready for Capt'n?"

"Yeah," Peter sighed, gesturing to the blank tablet on his bed, "but I gotta finish this stupid navigation module."

"Looks like y'r'really gettin' somewhere," Kraglin chuckled, "Want some help?"

"Yeah, but Yondu'll prob'lly get mad if you do," Peter pushed himself to a sitting position, leaning against his pillow and grabbed the tablet.

"He's busy," Kraglin shrugged, but closed the door as he entered the room, "We'll get it done fast 'n maybe you can come with t'see y'r'girlfriend."

"Dude, shut up," Peter couldn't help a small laugh as he kicked at the First Mate trying to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Oh, Kona," Kraglin curled his hands to his chest and dropped his head back dramatically, "y'r'smile, y'r'eyes, y'r'threats of bodily harm."

"Screw you, Krag," Peter chuckled while whapping the First Mate in the face with a pillow, "I am  _not_  in love with her."

"That's why you were starin' at her with y'r'tongue hangin' outta y'r'head last time, huh?" Kraglin smirked and the pillow soared at him again, but the First Mate snatched it, easily tearing it from the younger boy and whacked Peter on the side of the head before tossing the pillow to the foot of the bed, "Makes y'feel any better, Pete, she has that effect on a lotta guys."

"You?" Peter asked.

"Up 'til I heard her tellin' Capt'n 'bout a Ba-Bani she disemboweled for makin' an advance on her," Kraglin nodded, "Kona's a level of crazy most men can't handle 'n I got no problem bein' in the majority there."

"Well I could," Peter shrugged.

"Yeah," Kraglin expelled a hard laugh, "I'm sure you could, she's a little old for ya though."

"She doesn't look that old," Peter inclined his head with curiosity.

"She's looked the same since I've been here," Kraglin said, "Sirians age pretty slow 'n live a long time, Kona's prob'lly closer t'the Capt'n's age than you 'n me."

"Really?" Peter grimaced at the thought and Kraglin chuckled.

"Wouldn't su'prise me," the First Mate said, "They've known each other a long time, think they might've even had a thing once."

"Really?" Peter's grimace deepened into near disgust.

"Just rumors," Kraglin admitted, "but, if y'get t'come with, watch 'em together, you'll see what I'm talkin' about."

"If I don't get this done Yondu's not even gonna pick me up batteries," Peter sighed at the tablet.

"Naw he will," Kraglin shook his head, "I mean, yeah, get it done, but Capt'n'll get'cha those anyway," Peter narrowed his eyes and Kraglin chuckled lightly, "Well, first, that Walkman's the only thing that distracts y'well enough t'not be an annoyin' little shit sometimes," Kraglin laughed again when Peter kicked at him, but continued, "and second, y'r'the prince."

"Shut up, I am not," Peter crossed his arms and tried to look upset by the comment.

"Right," Kraglin scoffed and grabbed Peter's knee, shaking it a little as he squeezed.

"St-op Kr-ag!" Peter instantly fell into a fit of laughter as he tried desperately to tear his leg from the other's grip.

"Say y'r'the prince," Kraglin squeezed again, causing a scream of giggles to escape the wriggling young man.

"Kr-ag-liiiin!" Peter kicked and turned, but the First Mate was stronger and didn't seem affected by the feet jamming into his sides.

"What's goin' on here?" Yondu's voice boomed as the door flew open and the boys stopped immediately, Peter pushed himself to sit up straight while Kraglin jumped off the bed to stand in a rigid position.

"I'm sorry, sir," Kraglin said, his head straight, but his eyes darting to the floor, "We was just messin' around."

"Pete's got work t'do 'n he's been puttin' it off long enough," Yondu shifted his red gaze from the standing young man to the one sitting on his bed.

"I'm almost done," Peter mumbled.

"Almost ain't done, isn't it?" Yondu challenged and Peter shook his head, "What was that?"

"No, sir," Peter glared at Yondu as he responded.

"Drop the attitude, boy," the Captain growled warningly, "I'm not givin' ya another warning. Get that done," he pointed forcefully at the tablet, "Right. Now."

"Yes, sir," Peter grumbled as he pulled the tablet onto his lap.

"Kraglin," Yondu switched his attention and the First Mate tried to make his shoulders even straighter under the Captain's scrutiny, "Kona's about ninety-seven clicks away from the park field, should be close in the next few hours. Got a ship ready?"

Kraglin's face betrayed his worry, but he managed an audible, "No, sir, not yet."

"But y'r'in here playin' with Peter?" Yondu raised an eyebrow and Peter saw Kraglin's knees quiver slightly before returning his attention to the tablet, hoping the Captain wouldn't berate the First Mate in his bedroom.

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded, "I'm sorry, I'll take care of it right now."

"Just make sure it's ready when we leave," Yondu ordered and left the room, shutting the door on his exit.

"You better go," Peter muttered, swiping his finger along the holographic screen.

"I, uh," Kraglin turned his head from the door to Peter and back several times, "I think he's lettin' me help you. I mean, I got plenty'a time 'fore Kona gets in our orbit, we're right by the field already and won't take long t'check the ship, plus I make sure those things are ready t'go everyday anyway 'n he knows it."

"He did shut the door without making you leave," Peter reasoned.

"If we're wrong I'm definitely gettin' my ass beat," Kraglin scoffed as he retook his seat on the edge of Peter's bed.

"It's not that bad," Peter shrugged.

Kraglin let out a hard laugh, "Pretty sure I get it worse than you."

Peter offered a side nod of admittance that the older boy was probably right.

"So, how much'a this do you have left?" Kraglin asked, taking the tablet from Peter.

"Just mappin' a course to Astra, highlighting the jumps 'n then I gotta write the space traffic laws for the different planets where the course goes into their district," Peter said.

"Y'r'almost done?" Kraglin scoffed, "Pete, y'haven't even started!"

"Well I'm not gonna tell  _him_  that," Peter implored as if that much should be obvious.

Kraglin just shook his head and laughed. It really didn't take long once they started and the First Mate knew the program well, but didn't offer more than a leading insinuation when Peter was momentarily stumped. Between the two of them, they finished the required module fast. Kraglin was impressed when Peter showed him there was a way to copy the space traffic laws from the manual part of the program and paste them into the module notes, saving a lot of time from having to type them.

"Wish I'd known about that when I had t'do these things," the First Mate commented, "Though I didn't wait 'til the last minute t'get it done like you."

"Procrastination develops creative solutions," Peter smirked.

"Alright, c'mon," Kraglin stood up and Peter tossed the tablet to the corner of his bed, "Y'r'turn t'help me."

Peter hopped off his bed and pulled on his jacket before following Kraglin into the hallway towards the hangar.

"Can we take the Milano?" he asked, catching up to the First Mate.

"Yondu told me t'get the Frami ready," Kraglin said, "Horuz, Tullk 'n Retch are comin' too."

"Why Retch?" Peter grimaced, he kind of liked Tullk and, while he and Horuz had had their moments, the Ravager had been a lot nicer to him since he'd been kidnapped on Contraxia, but Retch was just a nasty jerk who's only redeeming qualities to the Captain were his ruthless nature and staunch loyalty.

"Y'think y'r'the only one who she's bringin' stuff for?" Kraglin scoffed, "Plus its good t'have a little extra muscle when we're doin' these trades, course y'don't wanna make anyone nervous for no reason. Retch is intimidating, but not really scary, like Taserface, y'know."

"Taserface scares you?" Peter chuckled.

"No!" Kraglin stopped walking and turned on Peter with what was almost anger, "I'm talkin' about how most people see 'em, not me. Why? Taserface 'n Retch scare you?"

"No!" Peter insisted immediately.

"Y'sure?" Kraglin smirked.

"Screw you," Peter knocked his entire weight into the First Mate.

"Always so sensitive," Kraglin shook him by the shoulder, while the younger may have been nearing his height, the older was still much stronger and could rustle him up without much effort.

Peter shrugged him off and offered an attempt at a glare, though the upturn in the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

"Wanna turn the music on?" Kraglin asked when they entered the hangar, but Peter was already heading to the console they'd hooked up to the speaker system and a few moments later David Bowie was echoing in the vast space.

The Frami was already ready to go, but the First Mate still made all the rounds, even double checking the few things he asked Peter to make sure were done, making Peter wonder why he'd even bothered to ask him to do it in the first place. The music wasn't very loud, they'd learned to keep their ears open for the Captain's approach, his heavy footsteps were unmistakable. Yondu didn't mind that the boys listened to music in the hangar, but Peter and Kraglin preferred to have a few moments of warning to their commander's arrival.

Peter heard the even paced thumps from the hallway and whistled a short tune softly into the ship, Kraglin hopped out of the hatch a moment later, just before Yondu strode into the hangar with Horuz and Tullk behind him.

"You better've gotten that module done, boy," he raised an eyebrow at Peter.

"I did," Peter mumbled.

"Kraglin, how's the ship?" Yondu asked, immediately switching his focus.

"Ready t'go, sir," Kraglin answered quickly.

"That just leaves Retch," Tullk scoffed towards the hallway.

"I'm comin'!" Retch's voice cracked a little and a moment later he was panting up the hall as he ran into the hangar, stopping in front of the Captain and attempting to stand at attention while heaving for breath, "Sorry Capt'n."

Yondu didn't acknowledge Retch as he jerked his head at the open hatch, "Let's get in the air, boys."

"Yes, sir," they all chorused while nearly trampling each other to get onboard the Frami.

Peter wedged passed Tullk and Horuz to follow closely behind Kraglin and sneak into the co-pilot chair before anyone else could, hearing a disgruntled scoff behind him, probably Horuz. The First Mate readied the navigation computer, imputing the coordinates while Peter flipped a few switches before Kraglin could even ask. The Captain pulled himself into the cockpit just as Kraglin was turning on the engines and sat in his chair behind the two young men.

"Boys ready?" Yondu asked.

"Yes, sir," Kraglin and Peter answered together and Peter felt the turbines gaining power beneath him as Kraglin manned the controls, steering the Frami through the hazy yellow forcefield into the dark space beyond.

Peter didn't bother asking if he could pilot for a little while, unsure where they were meeting Kona and positive Yondu would refuse based on that alone, but he kept his hands on his controls anyway, Kraglin didn't seem to mind. When the First Mate steered to the right Peter's controls moved in sync and the Frami rounded a small cluster of asteroids into a 'park field'. The sight never failed to engross Peter and he absently let go of his controls to lean closer to the windshield.

Dozens or more spacecrafts of all sizes hovered weightless in the vast openness, an undesignated section between the planet Korbin and the space prison Klyn where the laws were muddled at best, making it a perfect place for transactions that were illegal elsewhere. The Ravager crew usually made a pit stop every few months, but, after Kona's abrupt call to meet, Yondu had decided to take a small ship instead of the entire Eclector to the field.

"Kona's is that big black 'n red one over there," the Captain pointed out the windshield towards a massive craft, perhaps a little more than half the size of the Eclector and Peter had never seen a ship bigger than Yondu's.

"She's in charge'a that whole thing?" Peter asked with awe.

"Naw," Yondu scoffed, "that's a scavenger ship. Others like her share the space 'n the cost to house their smaller ships 'n have somewhere t'stop 'n rest 'n do business."

Peter nodded, it was a smart idea and made him even more excited to board Kona's craft with the promise of meeting more scavengers, an occupation he was becoming more and more interested in. It wasn't that he didn't like being a Ravager and part of a crew, but Peter knew someday he'd want to be on his own, at least for a while.

Kraglin turned around the large craft and directed the Frami through the wall of yellow haze into the scavenger ship's hangar, settling into one of the few available parking spots. The space was much smaller than the Eclector's and filled with a variety of compact spacecrafts, many that looked pieced together and partially broken. Peter's heart beat a little faster when he saw Kona standing with her hands on her hips and a hard expression on her face, watching the Frami settle gently as the turbines whirred to a stop.

Yondu descended the hatch first, followed by Horuz, Tullk and Retch while Kraglin and Peter brought up the rear, the latter finding it impossible to not strain his neck for a look at the beautifully harsh woman.

"Kona," Yondu stepped forward with open arms.

"You know I dislike this style of greeting," Kona said dryly, but returned the Captain's embrace with an unenthusiastic pat on the back.

"That's why it's so much fun, darlin'," Yondu smirked.

Kona sighed and let her eyes sweep over the others before turning her back and walking from the hangar, "Come along."

Yondu took a few long strides to catch up to the curvy scavenger and the others followed. Peter couldn't take his eyes off the extremely tight, red pants Kona was wearing, until a sharp smack to the back of head made him turn bitterly at Kraglin, though the look the First Mate leveled him with encouraged a guilty grimace and Peter's eyes met the floor as he sheepishly rubbed where Kraglin had knocked him.

The hallway opened up into a large space and Peter found his head turning in all directions at the random contraptions, piles of artifacts and other odd, out of place items littered around the giant space. They weren't alone either, Peter lost track of exactly how many other scavengers were in the place because they were all moving and a few looked remarkably alike, in fact he was almost positive two men, after seeing what he thought was the second for a third time, were actually the same man, though he couldn't be sure. Kona led them passed several open rooms, all jammed with the same type of random space junk, though in many of the separated storage areas the collections were far better organized.

"I only been here one other time," Kraglin whispered to Peter as they walked, "Them rooms there are f'r'the scavengers who pay more f'r'the ship than the ones fightin' over space in the middle."

"Does Kona have one'a these?" Peter asked in the same hushed tone and Kraglin responded with a mysterious smile.

They'd reached the end of the communal room and the group stalled as Kona entered a code on a keypad next to a heavy, black door. It slid to the side so fast Peter hardly saw it recede into the wall and Kona continued through another hallway, the door slammed behind them as soon as Kraglin and Peter stepped over the threshold. There were doors scattered down the bright corridor, each with a key pad and no handle, but the third on the left opened just before the group passed and Peter craned his neck to peer inside. He didn't see much besides the large man in the doorway who glared suspiciously at him before Kraglin's tight grip on the collar of his jacket dragged him back to their group.

"Can you not find trouble," Kraglin muttered quietly, "just this once?"

"I was just lookin'," Peter grumbled, jerking out of Kraglin's hold, but didn't stray from right next to the First Mate.

"Scavengers don't like that," Kraglin whispered, "they don't like anything, just keep y'r'eyes down 'n don't talk t'nobody."

"Yeah, whatever," Peter mumbled, but begrudgingly knew Kraglin was probably right and kept his eyes on Horuz's tattered jacket while they continued down the hall.

Kona finally stopped at one of the furthest end units and entered another code into the keypad, the door slid into the wall and the group followed her into the room.

Peter was immediately reminded of a zoo. The space was large and filled with shrieks and growls from the animals in cages lining one wall. Kona turned and slid onto a desk in the middle of the room with only enough space to fit her ample bottom as the rest was stacked with papers.

"Okay, boys," she clapped her hands, "One at a time and don't touch anything. Retch, I got your stuff. Got my money?"

Retch stepped forward and the others dispersed around the room, careful not to touch anything as they observed, but Yondu stayed near Kona, continuing a story about a job he wasn't sure if he wanted to take or not, though breaking into the Bank of A'askavariia sounded intriguing to Peter.

He found his way to the animal cages, feeling a twinge of sadness for the dozen creatures held against their will, though the lizard-like thing that hissed and spat on him was probably where it deserved to be. Peter wiped green saliva off his face and stepped away from the angry animal, but, before he raised his head again, he caught sight of a familiar little nose poking out between the bars of the last cage. Never in his life would Peter have thought the sight of a raccoon would make him so excited, but a smile spread over his face as he leaned down to get a better look at the critter.

"Watch that one," Kona's warning made the teen turn and her eyes were locked on him, "He's a professional asshole."

"He's kinda cute," Peter shrugged, internally cringing at his use of the word 'cute' to the dangerous (and beautiful) scavenger.

"He wants you to think that," she scoffed, "trust me, he'll take your eye out if you give him the chance."

Peter nodded his understanding, not trusting himself to not say something else stupid, and turned back to the cage. The large rodent was curled at the back of the metal box, blinking it's burnt copper colored eyes from behind the bushy striped tail.

"Kona?" Peter turned again and the pretty scavenger looked up at him with mild interest, neglecting the units in her hand she'd been counting, "Is he from Terra?"

"Earth," she nodded, "yeah, picked up him and a couple other little beasts."

"Why?" Peter asked.

"Boy!" Yondu barked, "It ain't y'r'business."

"Sorry," Peter mumbled, but Kona scoffed at the Captain.

"Don't ever apologize for asking things you don't know," Kona said firmly, a small hint of a smile curling in the corners of her mouth, "I'm takin' all of them to Halfworld, their labs are workin' on some cyber-genetic stuff and needed test subjects."

Peters stomach churned and he glanced again at the scared raccoon, but jumped away from the metal bars just before a small claw swiped aggressively at his jacket.

"Told'ja," Kona chuckled and averted her attention back to the Captain, "I got those batteries you asked for," Peter watched as she dug in the leather pouch hanging around her waist, "I gotta hand it to those Earth folks, they're gettin' a little smarter," she pulled out a small box and Peter recognized the word 'Energizer', though he didn't understand the pink bunny logo- rabbits had no use for drums, but he listened closely as Kona continued, "They got these rechargeable kind now, last a lot longer."

"Pete!" Yondu called, but the teenager was already inching towards the pair and the exciting new batteries.

"You got a hearing problem kid?" Kona asked and Peter shook his head nervously, but the pretty woman turned on Yondu, "Pretty sure he can hear you. What the hell you gotta yell at him all the time for?"

"Oh, if you knew him," Yondu scoffed and they smiled at each other, Peter wished he could walk away.

"Here, kid," Kona was still smiling when she handed Peter the box of batteries, making his heart beat faster for a few moments.

"Thanks," he grinned, taking the package and feeling heat rise in his cheeks as their fingers brushed.

"Guess that just leaves you," Kona arched a well-manicured eyebrow at the Captain and he returned it with a smirk that Peter wished he hadn't seen.

"Kraglin," Yondu called and the First Mate hurried to his side, "Get everybody back on the ship, I'll be along in a minute."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded and then jerked his head at Peter, who knew better than to argue and left with the First Mate, Tullk, Horuz and Retch.

Everyone except Kraglin seemed to have gotten something from Kona and the three older Ravagers were engrossed in their personal treasures while following the First Mate through the bright hallway.

"You didn't get anything?" Peter asked as Kraglin punched the internal release on the solid, black door into the chaotic main room.

"Naw," he shrugged, "I got everything I need, 'n I like savin' my money."

Peter looked at the box of batteries still in his hand and considered how many units he'd seen Retch hand over for whatever it was he was so excited about, but he hadn't paid anything for his, nor had he before when Kona had last visited with their ship. He had some money Yondu had given him for jobs, stuffed behind his underwear in the top drawer of his dresser back on the Eclector, but no one had told him to bring any so he hadn't. He briefly thought Kraglin might've had a point about him being 'the prince', but Peter shoved the idea away with one of numerous memories of Yondu barking at him about something stupid.

"What're you savin' for?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," Kraglin said, "Nothin' really, not specific anyway, just like knowin' it's there."

They continued through the large room of scavengers to the fleet deck, Kraglin lowered the Frami's hatch and jerked his head for the others to climb aboard, which Peter did first, scaling the ladder to the cockpit and plopping in the co-pilot's chair. Pulling his Walkman from his pocket, Peter quickly opened the fresh batteries and popped two in the back of his device, shoving the headphones over his ears and smiling as The Runaways started playing. Peter closed his eyes, enjoying the music he'd missed having so close.

A rough shake to his shoulder, however, made Peter sit up quickly as his eyes flew open at Kraglin and pulled the headphones from his ears.

"Yondu back?" Peter asked.

"Not yet," Kraglin shook his head, dropping into his seat with his leg hanging over one of the arm rests.

"D'ja see those animals Kona had?" Peter asked.

"I think she works with the Halfworld folks a lot," Kraglin said, "Prob'lly good money."

"Yeah, but, those animals," Peter's voice was quiet, but he knew Kraglin wouldn't judge him, at least not seriously, "they're gonna get like, tested on 'n stuff."

"Wanna volunteer?" Kraglin chuckled.

"No," Peter scoffed, "still ain't fair though."

"Look," Kraglin dropped his foot to the floor and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees, "I don't know much about that science lab stuff, but I can imagine it's better f'r'them scientists t'do their experiments on those critters than people, least not 'til they got it right y'know."

"I guess," Peter shrugged, but he didn't feel any better about it, wishing he could've helped the doomed raccoon, even if it had attacked him.

"That workin' again?" Kraglin nodded at the Walkman.

"Yeah," Peter grinned, pulling the rest of the batteries from his pocket and handing them to Kraglin, "These ones are rechargeable too."

"Yeah?" Kraglin seemed excited as he turned the box over in his hands, his eyes squinting at the words, "Can you read this?"

"Course," Peter said, taking the batteries back and reading the package aloud to the First Mate.

"Well, we ain't got one'a those charging devices," Kraglin shrugged, "but we can make somethin' that'll work."

"Cool," Peter nodded, already excited for the promise of a new project with Kraglin, "So, uh, how long y'think Yondu's gonna be?"

Kraglin expelled a soft laugh and shook his head, "Don't know, Pete, they do their business alone, I don't ask, you shouldn't either."

"I'm just askin' you," Peter implored.

"I'm just sayin'," Kraglin chuckled, "You can ask me, it ain't gonna get'cha answers, but you don't need 'em anyway."

Peter rolled his eyes with a scoff, but couldn't help a small smile as Kraglin's laughter subsided.

For a little while they switched Peter's headphones back and forth, but then Peter heard Tullk and Retch arguing and silently urged Kraglin to listen. Neither attacked each other, so the First Mate didn't get involved, but hearing Retch stammer with a come back to Tullk accusing him of having 'shits that smelled worse than a Druff in heat' was hard not to laugh at, so both boys covered their mouth as they shook with amusement.

Heavy footsteps thudded onto the open hatch below, followed shortly by the Captain calling into the cockpit "Boys ready?"

"Yes, sir!" Kraglin and Peter called together as the First Mate jumped into a rigid position in his chair and kicked the engines on.

"Let's head out!" Yondu's order was not as demanding as he usually spoke, there was a lighthearted lining in his tone.

"Might be in a good enough mood to let'cha fly home," Kraglin winked at Peter while pushing the turbine controls to lift the craft into the air.

Peter smirked mischievously and kept his eyes on the First Mate as he turned to call down the ladder, "Hey, Yondu?"

"Yeah, Pete?" Yondu answered.

"Can I pilot back?" Kraglin shook his head with an incredulous smile at Peter's request, but both listened for the response.

For several moments, nothing but the engine could be heard, but then a heavy sigh preceded Yondu's decision, "Let Kraglin get outta here first and you can take us home."

The quiet, disgruntled sounds of the few crew members below wasn't lost on Peter, but he didn't care and smiled smugly at the First Mate who laughed before taking off through the hazy yellow forcefield and back into the icy darkness of space.

_**Thank you for reading and I love to hear what you think!** _


	24. Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say the kudo system is almost disheartening when you notice only 4% of the people who have clicked on this like it :(

**_Who wants a multi-chapter short story? Great, 'cause that's what's happening! It wasn't supposed to be, but the lead up got a little carried away... I can't really be brief and just write things off as 'oh so blah blah happened', I assume you all want just as much realism and explanation as I do, so either you're welcome or I'm sorry depending on if that's your thing or not._ **

**_PART 1_ **

**_This is a prompt response, a few of them, and some have been pretty highly anticipated *cough* awkward Sex Talk *cough*, excuse me, but I won't spill too much because of course in setting up the scene for the story I wrote a whole other one, so while I really kinda like what I did here, the prompts will be focused on in Part 2. I hope you enjoy them both =)_ **

_**Happy Reading!** _

Peter was in the hangar when it happened, a deep groan followed by the floor beneath him seizing for a few moments. He didn't scream, he was too old for that, but grabbed tightly to one of the hoist support beams under the M-ship being repaired and may have gasped a little, just a little.

"What the hell was that?!" Kraglin sounded mildly frantic as his grease covered face popped out of the engine compartment upside down.

"I don't know," Peter shrugged, releasing his hold on the beam.

"KRAGLIN TO THE CONTROL ROOM! NOW!" Yondu's garbled yell over the speaker system made Peter jump, more than a little, and Kraglin whacked his head while trying to wriggle out of the mess of components.

Peter snickered quietly, relieved he hadn't been called to the Captain as the First Mate slid out of the engine bay and swung to the ground.

"PETER YOU TOO!" Yondu's crackling demand echoed into the hangar and the young man's amusement disappeared.

"Haha," Kraglin tousled Peter's dirty blonde hair with a blackened hand.

"Shut up," Peter shoved him.

Again, the floor shivered as a low whine played a painful note for several seconds. When it stopped, both Peter and Kraglin saw their fists had twisted into each other's shirts and quickly jumped away, forcing their anxious expression to be neural. The First Mate grabbed his jacket from a chair he'd thrown it on before they started working and tossed Peter his underneath, they hurried up the corridor while pulling on their uniforms, grabbing the walls when the ship lurched again, this time accompanied by several distant bangs.

"Kraglin, what's happening?" Peter tried to keep the concern out of his voice.

"I don't know, Pete!" Kraglin snapped, but Peter didn't take offence, knowing Kraglin was nervous too.

Other crew members were pushing themselves off the floor and trying to crawl in the direction Yondu had barked at them over the speaker system in the hallway, though a few had managed to keep their balance. The boys were nearing the command room when another groan and a loud crash beneath them made the Eclector shake wildly and both were thrown to the ground, unable to find solid footing for several moments as the ship settled.

Kraglin pushed himself up first, pulling Peter from the floor and keeping his hand firmly clasped on the younger's jacket while moving towards the open room. Peter considered brushing off the assistance, but his legs hadn't stopped shaking, so he silently appreciated the help being forced on him.

Yondu was slamming his fist on the holographic screens under the huge windshield, Gef stood nearby and jumped slightly every time the large blue fists made contact. Gef spotted Kraglin and Peter first, sighing with relief and slowly edged away from the angry Captain.

"Capt'n," Kraglin got the man's attention, pulling Peter next to him and tugging back on the teen's shoulder before shoving his arm to his side and standing at attention, only briefly before the ship quaked again and Peter fell into him, pushing Kraglin to the floor.

Peter stopped just before landing on top of the First Mate and felt Yondu's strong hand pull him to his feet by a rough grip on his upper arm. Peter didn't dare brush him off, but wished he wouldn't squeeze so hard. The vice grip released quickly, though, and Yondu bent over to grab Kraglin by the shoulder of his jacket and hauled the young man to his feet.

"Sorry, sir," Kraglin mumbled, Peter didn't think there was anything to apologize for, it was the ship's fault.

"We gotta land her, now," Yondu's tone was demanding, but he sounded nervous too, "We're a few clicks to a jump that'll spit us out near Xandar."

"Can she jump?" Kraglin asked frantically, quickly adding, "Sir?"

"Gonna have to," Yondu sighed, "Kraglin, you watch the fluid levels and temperatures," the First Mate immediately hurried to the screens the Captain pointed at, "if the temps spike or the levels change let me know right away."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin answered without taking his eyes off the assigned screens.

"Peter," Yondu directed him to the navigation screen at the main steering controls, "Get me the most direct route to Xandar from where we are right now and get to the atmosphere, Kraglin, when he gets there you help him land."

"WHAT?!" both boys turned incredulously at their commander.

"You heard me!" Yondu barked, "Do it, I ain't tellin' ya twice!"

"Yondu, I can't," Peter insisted, wincing as a hard, open hand connected with the side of his head.

"I know y'can, boy," Yondu said simply, "Kraglin's gonna help ya put her down, you're fine."

"Where are you goin'?" he asked.

"Pete!" Kraglin warned, but Yondu held up a hand to stop the First Mate from interjecting.

"I'm goin' to the engine room, got half the crew down there searchin'," Yondu said, "easier t'narrow down the problem while it's happening."

Peter's eyes went wide, "But, are you, can you, is it safe?"

Yondu threw his head back to laugh, but when the ship shook again he began to fall backwards, only saved by a quick whistle as his arrow shot from his belt and the Captain grabbed hold of the brass weapon, pulling himself firmly on his feet again. Peter was extremely impressed, but definitely wasn't going to tell Yondu that.

"C'mon Gef," the Captain jerked his head as he stalked from the room, his arrow still gripped tightly in his fist, and the burly Ravager followed on shaking legs.

"Get the coordinates set, Pete?" Kraglin called, his focus on the several fluid screens he was in charge of watching.

"Done!" Peter said as he slammed the final keystroke, but, as the Eclector lurched forward, he grabbed the Captain's controls and felt a surge of excited fear course through his hands.

"Keep her on course," Kraglin ordered.

"Got it," Peter answered, praying that was true, he'd never had control of the massive ship before and was sure if the crew knew he did some of them would be clamoring towards the hangar for an escape.

Once the feeling settled, Peter breathed deeply, mostly letting the ship go where she was sent with a few small adjustments, though a small directional move in the Eclector was equal to a complete turn in the Milano. His heart jumped to his throat as the ship shivered again, whining and banging under the metal floor and Peter couldn't help but worry if Yondu was alright.

"Fluids are stable!" Kraglin called, though Peter wasn't sure why, he had no idea what the fluid levels meant, realizing then that was why he was piloting instead of Kraglin.

"Nearin' the jump!" Peter yelled when the portal materialized in front of him and he pushed the controls as hard as he dared, increasing the Eclector's speed before they passed.

The windshield flashed with light and suddenly Peter was staring at Xandar in all its Earth-like glory, but the hardest shake of the ship yet brought the teen back to his task and he steered towards the planet.

"Kraglin!" Peter couldn't slow the Eclector down as it neared the crest of the atmosphere, the ship was being pulled down much faster than the Milano descended.

Peter saw the First Mate's hands cover his on the controls and turn the Eclector away from the mass of water far below them. He was afraid to ask if Kraglin wanted him to move and a quick glance up at the First Mate's determined gaze told Peter to just stay where he was, holding onto the controls Kraglin was working over his hands. Lately, he'd started to feel more grown up, Yondu had even sent him and Kraglin on a solo mission, it was an easy job sure, but he'd gotten to do it with more of a partner than a commander. Having Kraglin's hands over his at the helm of the Eclector, however, made him feel much younger than fifteen Terran years.

When the First Mate moved one of his hands to flip a few switches on the control console, Peter pulled his own away quickly, wishing he could tug the other out, but Kraglin seemed to notice finally and released his grip enough for Peter to slide his hand out. He promptly jumped out of the Captain's chair.

As the turbines should have been decelerating the ship began quaking again, but didn't cease after a few moments, the crashing below deck filled the command room and Peter remained latched onto the arm rest of the Captain's chair.

"Go buckle in Pete," Kraglin jerked his head to the seats directly behind him.

"I'm fine," Peter shook his head.

"Buckle the hell in Peter!" Kraglin barked, turning very briefly from his task to show the younger man how serious he was and Peter felt his throat tighten.

He didn't say a word, and he damn well wasn't going to cry, his throat was just sore suddenly, he wasn't embarrassed that Kraglin had yelled at him like Yondu did, definitely surprised, he couldn't remember Kraglin ever raising his voice to him like that before. At least no one else was in the command room with them, not like when Yondu got irritated and occasionally swatted Peter in front of the crew for no reason, basically no reason, maybe he'd let his mouth run a little, but it was no reason to swat someone, that shit was humiliating. Not that Kraglin had done that, he would never, but something about it felt the same to Peter as he practically leapt into the chair and pulled the straps around himself.

Kraglin flipped a few more switches, slammed buttons and muttered an array of obscenities while pulling back hard on the controls, a few moments later the massive ship shuddered and landed not entirely ungracefully on the surface of Xandar.

Peter jumped from his chair and started to flee the room, deciding he wanted to be as far away from the First Mate as possible, but a second glance made him stop. Kraglin hadn't moved. His hands were white knuckled around the controls and his gaze was still firmly focused out the windshield. Peter took a few steps towards the Captain's chair and noticed the other's arms trembling.

"Kraglin?"

"Yeah, Pete," Kraglin's voice cracked as he answered, still staring out the windshield.

"That was a great landing," Peter tried to sound positive, and given the circumstances it had been a great landing.

"Turbines wouldn't down thrust," Kraglin finally turned to him with a nervous smirk, "but I got it."

"Yeah y'did," Peter held up a flat palm and Kraglin unenthusiastically slapped it, he was rarely enthusiastic about high-fives, but at least he humored Peter.

"Sorry I yelled at ya," Kraglin said.

"It's cool," Peter shrugged, and it was.

"C'mon," the older jerked his head and shakily got off the chair, "we should make sure Capt'n ain't dead."

Peter's laugh trailed off into a weak chuckle as he considered Kraglin wasn't joking and followed him from the room. The large access panel that covered up the ladder down to the engine room was already pulled from the wall, swinging squeakily on its hinges. Kraglin hopped onto the ladder first and shimmied down into the darkness quickly, Peter swallowed hard and followed. It wasn't that he was afraid, he'd been in the engine room before, but his stomach always twisted before he submerged himself into a black hole.

Once he dropped into the space beneath, Peter's eyes adjusted to the dim light. Every fifteen feet or so along the narrow hallway that ran the perimeter of the ship below deck was a faintly lit bulb, under every bulb was a heavy door leading to an access point on the engines, turbines and electrical components, literally everything that made the Eclector run was accessible through one of those doors. Peter had only been in the engine bay twice before, both times to help Kraglin change filters for the internal air flow, they'd never gone passed the second door from the left of the ladder.

Today, however, he continued following the First Mate towards the yelling further along the corridor, Peter felt a bit relieved when he heard Yondu.

"HOW THE HELL DOES IT DO THAT?!" Yondu bellowed angrily and Peter felt less relieved.

"Capt'n sure sounds mad," Kraglin mumbled.

"Did ya think he wasn't gonna be?" Peter gave Kraglin a side-eyed glance.

"Shut up," Kraglin scoffed.

As they walked around the first curve of the hallway Peter saw one of the doors wide open with Ravagers bustling in and out the opposite way down the hall, all carrying pieces of mangled metal. Kraglin walked in first, squeezing passed a flustered looking Halfnut who's bleeding arms were full of broken parts.

"Kraglin," Yondu stood in the middle of the busy room and snapped his fingers as he called the First Mate, not that either were necessary as Kraglin was practically in front of him already.

"Yes, sir?" Kraglin stood at attention and Peter did too, because sometimes he understood it was better to go along with protocol while the Captain was clearly fuming.

"Damn turbine supports busted," Yondu growled, gesturing at the massive turbine, only part of it was visible in the access room while most of it descended below the ship, "Not sure how much of it's actually useful after gettin' banged up like that," Peter moved his eyes over the walls surrounding the huge piece of machinery and grimaced at the major dents to the reinforced steel, but his attention quickly shifted back to the Captain as he continued, "Gonna need to take the whole thing out, fix these walls, replace all the supports and use what we can from the old turbine, but we're gonna need a lotta new parts."

Kraglin and Peter nodded at the mechanical mess surrounding them. The turbine had broken one, or more, of its supports to the heavy walls holding it, so every time the engine had sent power to that turbine it had lurched in its compartment and rattled the entire ship. Peter sighed internally at the mess, not wanting to bring attention to himself, but completely overwhelmed by the amount of work ahead.

"Where d'ya want me 'n Pete?" Kraglin asked, watching Retch roughly tug a loose pipe from the machine and follow Narblik out while the latter carried a chunk of bent rotor blades over his shoulder.

"I got the crew takin' it apart already," Yondu said, "Remember Saman? That greasy parts dealer."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin's tone was suddenly bitter.

"Gotta talk t'him 'bout some'a this stuff," Yondu sighed at the mess before shaking his head and stalking from the room, "You two are with me."

Kraglin rolled his eyes as he turned to follow and Peter's eyebrows raised in shock, he'd rarely seen the First Mate react that way to the Captain's orders, especially considering they got to go into the city while the rest of the crew was taking apart the broken turbine. The quiet grumbling from those close enough to hear Yondu invite his boys on the trip was not lost on Peter, but he really didn't care, he was used to it.

He spun around in the hallway, expecting to head back towards the ladder to the corridor above, but instead Yondu and Kraglin continued the opposite way along with a line of Ravagers carrying broken parts. Peter wasn't about to correct the man that owned the ship or the other who had lived on it years before him, so he followed and was surprised to find an exterior access hatch after another curve in the hallway. It was narrow and only fit one at a time, but, when it was his turn, Peter took great pleasure in hooking the inside of his boots on the outside of the emergency ladder and sliding down gracefully at high speed. Yondu growled before he touched the ground.

"The hell you doin', boy, y'r'gonna break y'r'damn neck!" Yondu barked when Peter turned around.

"Seems intact to me," Peter smirked after turning his head both ways as far as he could.

Yondu narrowed his red eyes and growled at him again before turning on his heel and stalking towards the city.

"Shut up, dummy," Kraglin muttered out of the side of his mouth when they were a few paces behind the Captain.

"You're, the, dummy," Peter stammered for a comeback, but when Kraglin laughed silently at him he settled for, "Bite me."

It was a much longer walk than usual to the city where Nova Corps was housed on Xandar, but Kraglin had gotten surprisingly close for a young First Mate working with a broken ship off the directional capabilities of a teenager. A little over half an hour of mostly silence was rewarded with the city suddenly appearing through the trees. Peter had been worried they were going the wrong way, but was glad he hadn't voiced this opinion, especially with how much Yondu had already growled at him.

"Capt'n?" Kraglin spoke up and Peter wasn't sure if he was more shocked by that or simply the introduction of sound into their awkward silence.

"Yeah, Kraglin?" Yondu turned his head slightly as he continued walking ahead of them, though they'd closed the gap significantly over the noiseless minutes.

"How, uh, are we gonna get some'a them big parts back, sir?" Kraglin asked nervously, "I tried t'get as close as I could, sir, honest, I'm sorry, really-"

"Boy!" Yondu pivoted in a moment and the two following him stopped dead in their tracks, staring with wide eyes up at their commander, who's tone was serious as he bore down on the First Mate, "I trusted my ship to you because I needed to be somewhere else! I trained you to do what you just did and you did a damn fine job of it! Don't you go bein' down on yourself and what I taught you to do! Understand?"

"Ye-es, sir," Kraglin stammered as he nodded adamantly, "I'm sor-"

Yondu smacked him upside the head so fast neither saw it coming until after it happened, but Kraglin just bit his lips together, setting his head high and straight.

"Am I understood, Kraglin?" Yondu repeated firmly.

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded curtly and nearly yelled his response.

Sometimes Peter hated Yondu. His insides might have burned with anger, but the gangly teen knew better than to engage, having found himself on the losing end of that battle more times than he would care to admit to.

"I'll make sure we get the parts where they're needed," Yondu assured them, "That's what I got you two for."

Peter and Kraglin couldn't help a side-eyed glance at each other, both clearly confused and hoping they wouldn't be muscling back a turbine fan wheel between them because the crew might as well set up shop on Xandar if that was the case. Yondu turned sharply again and they followed him through the thinning trees onto the pavement of the giant parking lot they normally landed on. When the buildings were nearer, Peter noticed decorations he'd never seen on their trips to the planet before.

Streamers hung from the roofs, fluttering against the sides of the city towers and brightly colored holograms flashed on the sides of several other structures. A huge banner was strung between two of the front most shops and Peter read the Xandarian words 'Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance' that shimmered across it. He looked expectantly at Kraglin.

"It's a celebration of Nova Corps' founding," Kraglin explained at just above a whisper, "They do it every year 'n it lasts a few days."

"What d'they do?" Peter asked.

"There's music 'n food, dancin' 'n stuff," the First Mate shrugged.

"Can we go?" Peter couldn't help his excitement.

"No," Yondu growled without turning around or losing a step, "we got work t'do, boy, it ain't play time, 'n the last place a couple'a young'uns in Ravager flames need t'be hangin' out is a celebration for the Nova Corps."

Peter wanted to argue that they wouldn't wear their jackets, but he couldn't refute the work that needed to be done on the Eclector and bitterly pressed his lips together. Kraglin rolled his eyes and offered a small smirk, making the corners of Peter's mouth tug upward for just a moment.

The streets were filled with the citizens of Xandar, many with sloshing drinks in their hands as they laughed in groups with each other. Children ran through the crowd with pretend blasters wearing cheap versions of the Nova Corps' helmets and high-pitched, upbeat music blared overhead from a source Peter couldn't pinpoint. It was enthralling and reminded the teenager of a carnival his Mom and Grandpa had taken him to before she got sick, but he pushed the memory away quickly, thinking of his Mom always made him sad.

Yondu stayed on the outer perimeter of the crowd, pushing his way to a much less populated alley and continued through it, the music and noises from the celebration faded as the boys followed their commander. The street on the other side of the alley was practically abandoned compared to the one they'd just left and the shops were not as well advertised, some looked more like forgotten storage units than actual places of business. Yondu pushed through a door that would have been clear if it wasn't for the grime coated on the glass and Kraglin followed with Peter close behind.

"Saman!" Yondu bellowed and Peter thought he saw something jump in a messy pile near the back of the room, but the man who strode out from behind cluttered shelves stole his attention, being tinged pink and all.

"Yondu!" Saman seemed mildly surprised and smiled mischievously, "How is the other runaway?"

"You ran away," Yondu growled, "I was liberated."

"Awe c'mon," Saman chuckled, "just havin' some fun. How are ya? Still got your own crew or did Stakar rip the flames off? I seen him, maybe a quarter of a cycle ago when he needed some propulsion sparkers, sure didn't seem like your biggest fan anymore."

"I recommend you keep your mouth shut about me," Yondu's voice shook slightly and Peter saw his fists squeezed tight at his sides.

"Still don't have a sense'a humor huh?" the pink man's mean smile didn't fade as his eyes shifted towards the boys behind Yondu, specifically the First Mate, "Hell, that kid grew up, didn't he? How y'been Dieb?"

Peter felt Kraglin tense next to him and his own cheeks flushed with anger at Saman's brazen insult, using the nastiest Xandarian word for 'thief' as a nickname. He was glad when Yondu stepped forward, towering over the pink man threateningly.

"I'm here t'do business, Saman," Yondu barked, "this ain't a social visit."

"Awe lighten up, Yondu," Saman scoffed, the smile finally disappearing from his face, "I don't mean nothin' by it. Kid looks good, and they're multiplyin' I see," Peter scowled hard when the man's eyes found him, "That one Sirian?"

"Don't matter t'you what he is," Yondu said simply, "I had a turbine go out, that's all I need from you."

"Turbine?" Saman grimaced, "Not good, not good at all. Do ya know what'cha need or ya gonna need me to take a look at it?"

"I'm still determining the extent of the damage," Yondu said curtly, "but I know I'm gonna need a new rotor fan wheel, figured I'd get'cha on that in case y'gotta find it."

"Damn, what'd you do?" Saman laughed out loud and Yondu scowled even harder as a growl emitted from the back of his throat, "I'm kiddin', this stuff happens, but I ain't got one on hand. I can put in the order 'n prob'lly have it here tomorrow or day after."

"Do it," Yondu said, "I'll be back with a list of everything else I'll need tomorrow."

"Aye, aye, Cap," Saman saluted sarcastically and Yondu jerked his head at the door, following the boys out of the disorganized shop without another word to the pink man.

"What a jackass," Peter grumbled when the dirty glass door banged in the frame behind them.

"You have no idea," Kraglin muttered bitterly, his ears were still bright red and his hands wouldn't stop contracting in and out of tight fists.

"Why'd he call you that?" Peter asked, not willing to repeat the slur and knew Kraglin knew the word he was referring to.

Yondu's head turned slightly towards their conversation and Kraglin mumbled out of the side of his mouth, "I'll tell ya later."

Instead of heading back towards the ship, Yondu led them passed another row of shops when they'd reached the main strip, still packed with celebrating citizens. Kraglin seemed just as confused when Peter looked questioningly at him, shrugging that he had no better idea where the Captain was taking them than Peter did. When Yondu stopped at what looked to Peter like a parking garage he'd seen on a trip to St. Louis, he and Kraglin again exchanged baffled expressions, but said nothing as they entered the tall building. Though, 'building' was a loose term for the structure with so many stacked levels but no exterior walls.

"Can I help ya?" a short, round man waddled towards them, his eyes magnified by the thick glasses he wore making him look remarkably like a giant fly.

"Need a transport ship for a few days," Yondu said, "largest one y'got."

"Sure," the man nodded, "What'cha haulin'?"

"What's it matter?" Yondu's question was harsh and the squat man's eyebrows jumped in surprise.

"C'mon then," he mumbled and turned towards a desk at the back of the small room.

He walked around the back side of the counter that towered over him, but, a moment later, slowly rose in a chair behind the front desk, making himself nearly eye level with the Captain. A holographic screen popped up between them when the man touched a button on the desktop and he swiped his finger upward, making the list soar to the bottom.

"I got an Almax thirty-five-hundred," he said, staring blankly at Yondu, "That do ya?"

"That'll work," Yondu nodded.

"How long y'gonna need her?" the man's eyes returned to the screen as he clicked on the a picture of a funny looking ship.

"Least three days, maybe four," Yondu answered.

"I'll charge ya for the three now," the man said, "there's a deposit so if ya need another day and bring it back in the same condition I'll just take the rest outta there 'fore I refund ya."

Yondu nodded that he understood and the man started hitting buttons on the hazy graph, the screens flipping quickly with every press of his finger.

"Y'all in town for the celebration?" he asked while his hands continued working.

"No," Yondu said simply.

"Okay then," the man grumbled under his breath and spun the screen with a quick flick of his finger, presenting the completed invoice to the Captain, "I'm assumin' ya don't want the insurance."

Yondu scoffed and settled his eyes on the screen, nodding slowly before he pulled a stack of units from inside his long jacket. He counted the required amount and slid it across the desk to the man in the chair.

"Alright," the man sighed, slipped the money into a drawer next to him and pulled out a small, black fob, "Ya gotta have this on ya or the ship won't start," he said, holding the fob up to the screen for a few moments until a high-pitched beep sounded and he handed it over to the Captain, "Level seven, spot twelve."

"Much obliged," Yondu said, taking the fob and walking towards a lift to the left of the desk.

Peter heard the small man mutter something under his breath as he followed his commander, fairly certain the dwarf was quietly cursing the Ravager Captain.

The lift doors closed on the office and Peter felt the floor rumble under his feet as it started to rise. A projected red number 2 appeared on the doors, then flashed to 3, 4, 5, 6 and the lift shuddered to a halt before the doors slid open. Peter was again reminded of the parking garage in St. Louis when they stepped off the lift and felt a soft breeze blow through his hair.

The whole floor was open to the elements with concrete partitions separating the numbered spots, some housed a spacecraft, but many were empty and Peter's gut lurched at the sight of the drop off. He could see the celebration filling the main streets below them even as he stood several feet away from the terrifying ledge, it wasn't that Peter was afraid of heights, he just preferred them when he had his propelling tether anchored to something or was inside a spaceship.

Yondu approached the bulky craft parked in spot twelve and Peter couldn't help a baffled glance at Kraglin, though the First Mate didn't seem as confused by the ship that Peter could only describe as bulbous. It almost reminded him of a giant ladybug with the dark red paint and what looked like long, black, spindly legs curled underneath, though there were at least a dozen 'legs' surrounding the bottom of the craft. The Captain pointed the fob at the funny looking ship and the bottom half of the backend lowered into a ramp.

"What're we usin' this for Yondu?" Peter had held back his questions long enough, unable to help one spilling passed his lips.

"Haulin'," Yondu's scoff turned into a chuckle, "Y'gonna try 'n carry a rotor wheel? Or maybe you could just roll it back."

"I was just askin'," Peter said indignantly.

Yondu led them up the hatch and into the empty ship, it looked even bigger on the outside. The whole thing was one large room, the cockpit obviously situated at the very front right before a large, curved windshield. The rest of the spacious craft was barren and Peter thought of a large rental truck, not quite the size of a semitruck, but close.

"Are we bringin' the scrap back t'Saman, sir?" Kraglin asked, sitting in the co-pilot chair next to the Captain, forcing Peter to bitterly unfold one of the jump-seats on the wall behind the First Mate.

"Kree bastard's gonna soak me as much as he can anyway," Yondu growled and turned on the engines, "Might as well get some credit for the crap I can't use."

Kraglin nodded, but the words he spoke next very much surprised Peter, "I hate that asshole, Capt'n."

"Yeah," Yondu agreed sullenly, "me too, Kraglin."

The hollow cargo box of a ship lifted from its resting pedestal and soared off the ledge, over the Nova Corps celebration and towards the forest they'd trudged through a few hours before.

"Alright," Yondu began suddenly after several minutes of quiet flying, "I'll make a deal with you two. We get this turbine mess taken out and fixed quick, Pete I need ya on top of whatever y'r'told t'do, no whinin', and Kraglin, I need you helpin' me keep the crew on track and your brains puttin' this new piece together, I know you can handle it, both'a you. If we get it done in three days y'all can make the last day'a that, festival. But don't go wearin' your colors in those crowds, attract more attention than y'need."

Peter's jaw was slack and he didn't even notice until he felt how dry his tongue was, shock having completely overtaken him and sure he'd imagined the Captain's entire statement. Until Kraglin turned his head around the co-pilot headrest, his eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing without sound. Peter nodded his understanding and the First Mate slowly turned around, both focusing their attention to Yondu.

"So, you don't wanna go?" Yondu asked wickedly.

Quickly, both young men expressed their keen interest in going to the Nova Corps Worldmind celebration, each trying to speak over the other until Yondu put up a large blue hand to silence them, chuckling mildly to himself.

"You're only goin' if we get this done," he reminded, "Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Peter and Kraglin answered together.

A smile was plastered on Peter's face the rest of the ride back to the Eclector, extremely excited for the promised event. Sure, there was work to be done first, but he was going to have to do that anyway, it wasn't often rewarded, especially not with such a rare experience. Peter really hoped there would be girls there, knowing there had to be, but he hoped there would be pretty girls around his age. His crush on Kona had dissolved after their last encounter, but she'd sparked an interest that hardly contained itself. Peter found himself thinking about girls all the time, specifically Alyssa Milano, but sometimes girls he made up in his head, they all kind of looked like Alyssa Milano though.

"C'mon, Pete," Kraglin ruffled his hair and Peter shook his head from the trance he'd been in, "let's get t'work. Y'wanna go t'Worldmind right?"

"Oh, hell yeah," Peter scoffed, tossing the straps off and hopping from the jump-seat that sprang back against the wall without his weight on it, "Hey Kraglin?"

"Yeah, Pete?" Kraglin turned at the top of the ramp, Yondu was already marching across the dirt to the crew under the Eclector's broken turbine.

"You know of any good places t'meet girls at this thing?" Peter smirked mischievously.

Kraglin grinned and winked at the younger man, "Yeah, Pete, we're covered, don't worry."

Peter's stomach fluttered and twisted with anticipation. He'd never been so motivated to work on a ship besides the Milano and almost ran down the hatch ramp, skidding a bit to slow down and walk beside Kraglin. The First Mate's focus was on the scattered scrap metal under the hole in the undercarriage where the partially disassembled turbine was so Peter didn't expect the hand that shoved him hard on the shoulder, pushing him off balance and nearly toppling to the soft ground.

"You jerk!" Peter laughed as he yelled, finding his footing and squaring on Kraglin, who was walking much faster towards the ship.

"Got work t'do Pete," Kraglin tried not to chuckle as he started running away from the teenager chasing him.

"Boys!" Yondu barked and they both stopped dead, "Get y'r'asses over here!"

Kraglin held up a rude hand gesture to Peter behind his back as he strode quickly to the Captain and Peter briefly considered breaking his finger, but then the turbine definitely wouldn't get done in time for them to go to the Worldmind celebration.

_**Part 2 coming soon! Please let me know what you think, this is continued by your interest :)** _


	25. Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance Part 2

_**Part 2 (of what is now going to be 3 parts) And here's Yondu's 'birds'n'bees' turns out he's kind of a chauvinistic prick lol but he loves his boy, even if he'll never ever say that ;)** _

_**Btw- alien spacecraft mechanics are surprisingly hard to explain, create and write. So if anyone could do me a favor and tell me if the Almax 3500 and the scenes describing them fixing the ship make any sense- that would be wonderful and I will not at all be offended if you say they don't, I can only improve with honest criticism so don't hold back ;) I'm a big girl I can take it I swear** _

_**Thank you for the continued support and reviews! Happy reading!** _

It had taken whatever hours had been left in the day they'd landed on Xandar and all the way until the sun was high overhead the next for the Ravagers to clean out all the broken pieces from the turbine. Unfortunately, many of the smaller, internal parts had been jostled around inside the larger ones that took the brunt of the damage and were mostly unsalvageable.

There was still the matter of getting and installing a new rotor fan wheel, but, once Yondu had showed him and Kraglin how to operate the Almax 3500, Peter understood how much easier the utility ship would make the job. The spindly legs under the craft unfurled and extended, they were able to turn, flex and even curl the tips into tight hooks for hanging things on, though their main use would be its ability to have the dozen legs work together as a giant claw and lift the massive rotor fan wheel they were picking up from Saman the following day.

Peter had been a bit disappointed when Yondu took the first load of scrap in the rental ship to the Kree parts dealer with Horuz and Tullk in the early hours of the morning, but Kraglin was right that they needed as much time as they could get to work on disassembling the turbine. Both were determined, even more so after the last piece of broken metal was stripped from the ship, and would've worked through lunch if Yondu hadn't come back and barked at them to take a break with the rest of the crew.

"Hey, Kraglin," Peter began after they'd sat down with their lunches on a boulder away from the others, "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Just did," Kraglin smirked, "Yeah, Pete, what's up?"

"That Saman asshole's Kree?" Peter furrowed his brow when Kraglin nodded and continued, "He's pink. Ain't Kree supposed t'be blue?"

"They're a couple different colors," Kraglin shrugged, "not even most of 'em are blue, but a lot of 'em are. It's an old story, basically they were always blue but then they weren't havin' enough of each other, their population was fallin', so some scientist guy did something, tryin' to make more babies, or clones, I really don't know how it all worked and this was a long time ago, but they did, 'cept the new generations were comin' out white, pink, sorta purple sometimes."

"Huh," Peter nodded thoughtfully as he considered the story, "So that guy ran away from Hala? Why?"

"So he could treat folks the way he'd always been," Kraglin scoffed bitterly, "See the blue Kree is a group of stuck up jerks, they're in charge'a everything in Kree culture and the ones who are, different, well they don't always have the greatest lives just 'cause'a what color they are. But I don't feel bad for Saman, he's just an asshole."

"So him 'n Yondu know each other from back when Yondu was, there," Peter found he couldn't say the word slave, he didn't want to, "How's he know you?"

"Chased me out of the alley behind his shop once 'r twice," Kraglin shrugged, "I did steal from him a few times, but he made it easy."

"Can't fault a man for takin' advantage of shitty security," Peter grinned as he quoted the Captain and the First Mate nodded in agreement.

"Just wish there were anybody else t'deal with here," Kraglin sighed, "Them parts are hard t'come by for a Ravager ship and Saman's the only one who can get 'em."

"Why is Yondu so, like, normal here?" Peter asked, picking at the remainder of his meal with his head down.

"What'd ya mean?" Kraglin asked, bending over to suck meat off a bone.

"Y'know, how like he'd have killed anybody else for talkin' the way Saman was, and then the rental ship, or when he brought me to the hospital here, y'know how he like, pays for stuff around here, like a normal person," Peter continued, but the shadow that darkened the large rock they were sitting on made his stomach turn before his head did, staring right at the Captain.

"At easy, boys, finish y'r'lunch," Yondu said, which was necessary as Kraglin nearly choked on the bone he'd been licking clean, "And Peter, t'answer your question, it's 'cause I don't shit where I eat."

"What'd ya mean?" Peter asked.

"Xandar is home to Nova Corps who police more than just this planet, and offers a lot in ways of stuff we need," Yondu explained and Peter listened intently, "It's centrally located and surrounded by jumps, making it easily accessible just about anywhere. It's a good place to do business if you're smart about it and it's important to have a place to land that provides all those things. These colors might tell people what I am, but here, long as we keep to ourselves, they ain't got no reason t'bother us, there's an endless system of planets to steal from out there, this one's not one of 'em."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded after a few moments when Yondu had stopped talking but was still staring at him.

"Did Saman confirm the fan wheel will be here tomorrow, sir?" Kraglin slid off the boulder, tossing the clean bones from his lunch into brush behind.

"Said he should have it first thing," Yondu nodded.

"Can we go with to get it?" Peter asked quickly, he'd been very excited to use the giant claw like he was playing an oversized crane game.

Kraglin shot him a wide-eyed expression that Peter understood to mean 'shut up', but Yondu turned his head towards the work being done on the Eclector and nodded slowly.

"You sure got a lot done," he admitted, "There's enough scrap for another load to Saman now and bring back some other things we need."

"That's all of it, sir," Kraglin said.

"All of it?" Yondu looked at the First Mate with mild surprise.

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded, "Pulled the last pieces out of the holding bay just before you got back, I still gotta go through some'a them inside bits 'n find what's useful-"

"It's all shit," Yondu growled, "Don't bother siftin' through nuts 'n bolts, I'm gettin' a whole new assembly on this side."

Kraglin nodded, but Peter noticed the corners of his lips curl a little and knew the First Mate was glad to be saved from the tedious task.

"We'll just need the new parts then, sir," Kraglin said, "I, uh, since I got the time now, I'm gonna check the other turbines, just make sure this don't happen again."

"Good," Yondu nodded, "I was gonna ask ya to do that, write down anything that could use maintenance, and don't be stingy, might as well get her perfect before we get back up there."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin said and hurried towards the Eclector, shimmying up the emergency hatch into the hallway of access rooms.

"What're you gonna do?" Yondu's question was directed at Peter and the young man turned his head in search of a job.

"Help load the transport ship with scrap?" Peter offered.

"That'd be a good idea," Yondu said dryly.

The crew formed an assembly line of sorts, most of them sifting through the debris and handing pieces of scrap to Gef and Retch who stood on either side of the rental ship's ramp and passed them up to Peter and Halfnut who filled the large cargo area from front to back. Occasionally, Narblik and Taserface muscled a large, heavy fragment of metal up the ramp and were hardly as diligent about using the space effectively as Halfnut and Peter, leaving a chunk of the rotor fan blades in the middle of the floor after Peter growled at them to put it by the rest of the mess. Halfnut rolled his eyes and refused to help Peter move the obstruction until he stubbed his toe on it, grumbling bitterly as he and the teenager pushed it to the right-side wall.

His shirt was stained with sweat, his jacket long since abandoned on the ground outside the Almax 3500, but they finally packed the last of the scrap that would fit in the cargo area and Peter took the opportunity to sit down on the soft dirt with the rest of the tired crew. Narblik was nearly asleep against the largest portion of the turbine fan wheel, it would have to be carried with the claws under the transport ship, far too large to fit inside even by itself.

Footsteps approaching behind him caught Peter's attention, but he had no energy to turn his sore body and simply tipped backwards until he was lying flat on the ground, watching the Captain and First Mate approach upside down. Yondu stopped and looked down at the teenager with an amused smirk before continuing towards the rest of his men.

"Narblik!" he barked and the massive Ravager snorted awake, stumbling to his feet, "Taserface 'n Brahl, you're with me! We're unloadin' and pickin' up a lotta parts-"

"Why do only we have to do the work?" Taserface challenged suddenly, silence fell over the group as he continued, gesturing at Kraglin and Peter, "What're they gonna do?"

Yondu's eyes narrowed and he took a few steps until he was within arm's reach of the giant, ugly man. His tone was even when he spoke, keeping his eyes on Taserface and addressing the First Mate, "Kraglin, take Peter, Retch, Horuz, Halfnut and Tullk in one'a the fleet ships 'n follow us to Saman," briefly the Captain's gaze swept over the crew, "The rest'a you stay here 'n get t'work on fixin' the dents in those walls!" the Ravagers hurried away as Yondu's red eyes pulsed with anger, turning back on Taserface, "And you," a large blue fist met the man's protruding stomach and Taserface collapsed to the ground on his knees, unable to curl into the pain when Yondu grabbed his long black hair and wrenched his head back, "I will not be interrupted or undermined! Y'damn well let me finish you'd've heard everyone's orders and not be in this situation. Right?"

"Yes, sir," Taserface sounded much weaker than Peter had ever heard, part of him was enjoying it while most of him wondered if he was allowed to leave the awkward scene, but no one else did, so he stayed frozen on the ground, watching.

"You keep your mouth shut and worry about  _your_  job, got it?" Yondu pulled harder on the man's hair and Taserface whimpered.

"Yes, yes, sir," he promised.

"Get in the damn ship," Yondu snarled as he pushed the man to the ground and stalked towards Kraglin and Peter.

Kraglin stood at attention and Peter decided it was best to at least push himself to his feet, though his legs didn't appreciate the move.

"Take the Frami," Yondu ordered, "we might need more room for small parts if we fill up that thing."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded and tugged Peter's sweaty shirt to make him follow, he barely remembered to grab his jacket off the ground before he did.

Kraglin led Peter, Retch, Horuz, Halfnut and Tullk up the emergency hatch ladder, through the engine room hallway and up another ladder to the open wall panel on the main floor above. Then the group trudged to the hangar on the opposite side of the ship. Peter's legs felt like were going to fall off and he groaned to himself thinking of unloading everything he'd just loaded when they got to Saman's shop.

He followed Kraglin into the Frami, taking his normal seat in the co-pilot chair, falling into it with his legs hanging over one of the arm rests and closing his eyes dramatically.

"Get'cher feet outta my face," Kraglin grumbled, pushing Peter's boots to the floor, forcing the exhausted teenager into a sitting position, "And buckle up."

"Jerk," Peter muttered, pulling the straps across his chest.

"Bitch," Kraglin scoffed lightly while powering up the turbines.

Yondu was already in the air, hovering with the chunk of fan wheel dangling under the Almax 3500, but the claws held tight even while it swung under the craft as they flew towards the city. Peter was confused, however, when Yondu started flying around the outskirts, barely able to see the buildings distinctly, and wondered if he was going the back way to avoid the crew seeing the festival. Then he considered that was silly because if Yondu said no they just wouldn't go, well Peter would, but he knew how to get what he wanted unlike the rest of the Ravagers.

"Where're we goin'?" Peter asked when they turned and dropped elevation, but were no where near the city.

"Saman's scrap yard 'n warehouse is out here," Kraglin said, "Can't very well keep stuff like this in the middle'a the city, no, he's got a place out here he does business, the store front is more of a meetin' place to discuss with customers y'know."

"Okay, sure," Peter nodded absently, having stopped listening at some point while the First Mate was explaining, his eyes fixed on the yard that appeared over a tall hill.

It would've been exactly like a landfill on Earth except the debris was clearly all alien spacecraft and weaponry. Peter's gaze didn't stop there as Kraglin turned the Frami around to land and he caught sight of the massive steel doors built into the side of the comically tall hill, practically a mountain if it wasn't covered in grass.

"This is Saman's warehouse?" Peter gasped.

"Don't go droolin' over his toys, okay," Kraglin growled, "Guy's a jackass to top all jackasses."

"Yeah," Peter nodded, "but he's prob'lly got some cool shit."

Kraglin shook his head, rolled his eyes and was descending the ladder before Peter even unbuckled from his seat. He followed quickly, but was the last to get to the hatch and, from his unobstructed view at the top of the ramp, he watched Yondu set the broken fan wheel gently on an extensive black patch of ground before settling the Almax 3500 next to the Frami with more grace than the bulky ship should've ever had. Peter hadn't even noticed Saman was outside waiting for them, the huge doors behind him open to the warehouse inside the hill.

Peter was shocked at the difference between the dirty shop and what appeared to be a meticulously organized airplane hanger of ship parts, but he made sure his expression remained neutral, hard even as he stood next to the First Mate and waited for their Captain to descend the transport craft. The bulbous windshield of the rental ship unhinged upward and a ramp slid out from the floor between the pilot chairs, Yondu began walking down it before the end touched the ground with Narblik, Taserface and Brahl following.

"Brought the whole crew huh?" Saman chuckled.

"Not even close," Yondu growled, "Didn't think you'd be much of a help unloadin'."

"Thought right," the pink man nodded, "I got that fan wheel little while ago if y'wanna take a look at it."

Yondu made an affirmative sound and started heading towards the open doors of the warehouse, making Saman jog a bit to catch up.

"Alright, let's start unloadin', c'mon let's go!" Kraglin clapped his hands and the crew grumbled, but made their way to the transport ship's cargo ramp.

Unloading didn't take nearly as long, especially since no one seemed concerned about organization as they tossed one piece after another onto the enormous scale platform near the entrance to the scrap yard where Yondu had already landed the immovable, broken fan wheel. A counter illuminated in the air overhead and the weight continued increasing as they piled more fragments of the old turbine on the scale.

Yondu and Saman returned as the last of the scrap was being removed from the rental ship and the Captain directed his crew to start loading the new parts from the warehouse. No one except Peter grumbled at the command, but Yondu either didn't hear him or pretended he hadn't as he continued arguing with Saman over the price of the scrap. Eventually they settled on an amount that neither seemed pleased with, though Yondu had told Peter before that that was the tell-tale sign of good negotiating and the teen was confident his Captain was more satisfied than he let on.

By the time they left, Brahl and Taserface had to join the others on the Frami with the Almax 3500 stuffed all the way up to the cockpit with new parts. The new rotor fan wheel was massive, having to be hauled out of the warehouse by several of Saman's drones and even Yondu seemed to struggle in the transport ship as he lifted it slowly off the ground.

"Please don't fall, please don't fall, please don't fall," Kraglin muttered from his seat in the Frami's pilot chair, his eyes fixed on the fan wheel swaying under the rental craft.

Peter said nothing, but repeated Kraglin's mantra in his head a few times, just in case.

It didn't fall, though the trip back to the Eclector was painfully slow and several times Kraglin had to adjust the altitude of the Frami or weave the ship back and forth just to keep it in the air, nothing in the Ravager fleet was built to fly that slow. The Almax 3500, however, bumbled along despite the tremendous amount of weight it was carrying and they reached the Eclector just as the sky was darkening.

"All'a you," Yondu barked at the crew after descending the front ramp of the rental ship, "get somethin' to eat 'n hit the rack! We're startin' early!"

An echoed mumble of 'yes, sir' was heard from the exhausted group and the Ravagers trudged into the Eclector, headed straight for the mess hall.

"Capt'n?" Kraglin stopped near their commander as the others made their way into the ship, "I'd like t'get some of the new wiring done tonight, sir."

"Get some rest, Kraglin," Yondu said, "We'll be at it early enough."

"Yes, sir, but I'll still get up with the others I just-"

"Boy!" Yondu growled and Kraglin bit his lips together, "This is not a negotiation. Eat. Sleep. Now."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin nodded curtly and hurried away from the Captain, Peter following closely.

"He's a jerk," Peter grumbled.

"He's the Captain," Kraglin's response didn't sound like he was agreeing with Peter, but he clearly wasn't disagreeing.

"You wanna sneak down later 'n get some'a that done?" Peter asked, wondering why Kraglin had sought permission to begin with when asking forgiveness if he got caught was always the teenager's strategy.

Kraglin turned to him with his brow furrowed, obviously about to refuse, but a moment of thoughtfulness crossed his eyes and the First Mate shrugged, "Maybe, we'd gotta be real quiet though."

"Stealth mode," Peter agreed.

Kraglin grinned, "C'mon, let's eat, I'm starvin'."

* * *

Peter laid in his bed fully dressed, his boots carefully situated on the floor so the moment Kraglin knocked quietly on his door Peter was already pulling them on his feet. The First Mate held a finger to his lips and Peter rolled his eyes, tiptoeing into the hallway behind Kraglin and following him to the access panel still hanging open on the wall. Noiselessly they both descended the ladder and hastened down the corridor below deck, neither daring to even breath hardly before they'd rounded the curve, far away from Yondu's quarters.

"You got the wiring harnesses?" Peter whispered, Kraglin nodded.

The turbine access room looked much different without any parts in it and he looked down from the dimly lit balcony platform to the dark ground below, barely able to make out part of the new rotor fan wheel waiting to be installed. Kraglin grabbed a box from the corner and slowly pried off the top, grimacing when the crate lid squeaked. Peter hadn't remembered him bringing it in and wondered if Kraglin had managed to sneak down for the parts sometime after dinner, he was surprised how impressed he was with the First Mate.

"Okay," Kraglin was still whispering as he pointed to a square hole in the wall with the covering panel hanging limp and mangled from a single bottom hinge, exposing a mess of wires, "I'm gonna need t'strip some'a them wires and replace 'em," he'd shoved a handful of fresh wires in his pocket and pulled a headlamp down just above his eyebrows, spinning a pair of wire cutters in his hand once, "I gotta get on the second rung t'reach, so don't let me fall. Okay?"

Peter looked at the four metal rungs running the length of the platform to keep occupants from falling into the turbine, or in this case just a nasty fall to the soft ground, "You mean the top second one or the bottom second one?"

"Top," Kraglin said flatly, "You got it? I don't need t'go breakin'  _my_  leg."

"Yeah I got it," Peter rolled his eyes and Kraglin carefully stepped up the rungs to the second from the top, leaning over a little and bracing himself against the wall as he clicked on the headlamp and began stripping wires.

Peter held tight to his calves, but watched Kraglin's hands with astonishment, wondering if he'd ever be able to work on things with the speed and confidence of the First Mate. He stripped the ends of the new wires and twisted them onto stubs of the ones he'd deemed too damaged to remain, Peter just tried to avoid getting hit in the head by the ones Kraglin was tossing carelessly in the direction of the balcony.

They'd been working in near silence, not that Peter was working, but keeping the First Mate from plummeting to the ground was important, and Kraglin finally sighed at what he'd accomplished.

"Alright, Pete, let's get the otherrrr," the First Mate's word trailed into a weak sound and his face paled while his eyes bulged over Peter's head.

He turned and saw Yondu leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed and his face blank. Peter's stomach flipped, backing away when Kraglin's hurried decent from the railing pushed him unexpectedly. How long had the Captain been standing there with his long red jacket over his sleeping clothes? He and Kraglin briefly shared a glance that told the young man they both knew they were in deep shit.

"Bed," Yondu growled.

Neither had to be told twice and rushed from the room, Kraglin didn't even stop to apologize as he skidded passed the Captain. Peter had no intentions of stopping, sure if he did Yondu would lose whatever patience he was using. Kraglin reached the ladder first and his bedroom door was closing quietly just as Peter emerged on the main deck above, slowing his stride to his own room across the hall.

The next morning, Peter sleepily pulled his blanket over his face as light started streaming through his little window, he could not, however, ignore his door being flung open without warning.

"Get up, we got work to do," Yondu said.

"Five more minutes," Peter grumbled and turned over in his bed.

"Should've gone t'bed when you were told," Yondu informed him while stripping the warm blanket from the teenager, "Up. Work. Now."

Peter rubbed his eyes and scowled at the Captain, but swung his legs off the mattress and stretched his arms over his head.

"Can I get some privacy?" Peter asked sharply, grabbing his undershirt from a pile on the floor and slipping it over his bare chest.

Yondu scoffed, but turned to leave, pausing in the doorway to let his eyes scan the small room, "Your room's filthy."

"If you only knew," Peter muttered after Yondu shut the door.

He dressed slowly, yawning and trying to shake the exhaustion from his brain, but, after pulling on his boots, attaching his expanding helmet behind his ear and clipping his Walkman to his holster belt, Peter left his room and descended the ladder to the engine access hallway below. He could hear the bustling of the crew before they came into view around the first curve, carrying fresh parts into the turbine access room.

Yondu was standing outside the door and jerked his head in a silent demand for Peter to enter, which he did, and saw Kraglin elbow deep in the other wiring panel they hadn't gotten to the night before. The First Mate was kneeling on a small hovering platform and Peter was immediately reminded of Marty McFly's hoverboard from  _Back to the Future_ , hoping he'd get a chance to try it out.

"Pete," Kraglin glanced away from the mess of wires momentarily and motioned towards the crate he'd opened last night, "Grab me three green and two blue outta there, would'ja."

"Glad y'could finally join us," Horuz grumbled quietly as he passed Peter bending over the box of wires, Peter tried to scowl at him, but the Ravager was already leaving the room.

"How long you been up?" Peter asked, handing Kraglin the requested wires.

"Little while," the First Mate shrugged, "Don't worry about it, I ain't seen Gef or Scrote yet either."

"How much more y'gotta do on that?" Peter nodded at the panel of wires.

"Bout done," Kraglin said with a green wire between his lips as he stripped an old damaged one from the wall, "But I'm gonna need help gettin' up there before we put the fan wheel in," Peter looked up at the ceiling and saw three square holes with more wires hanging through and sighed, "Won't take long with both'a us," the First Mate assured him with a soft chuckle.

"Got another one'a those?" Peter gestured to the hovering platform under Kraglin's knees.

"Should," Kraglin nodded, "check the supply closet."

Peter darted across the hall to the small, dusty room and found another hover platform poking out from under a pile of greasy rags on a low shelf. He tugged hard, expecting the machine to be much heavier than it was and nearly lost his balance. Peter's finger brushed against the power switch on the side and he grinned mischievously as he flipping it, feeling the platform lift in his hands. He pushed it towards the floor and carefully situated his feet on the flat surface before letting go cautiously, using his arms to keep his balance.

Peter covered his mouth when a childish giggled burst passed his lips, but quickly threw his arm back out when he started to tip over. After ensuring he wasn't going to fall, Peter leaned forward slightly and the hovering platform jerked a little before flying out of the closet, across the hall and back into the turbine access room. Peter attempted a quick turn at the corner of the balcony and fell backward, landing hard on his backside with his right boot still caught on the platform. Kraglin shook his head and laughed.

"You're not s'pposed t'stand on it," he said.

"Think Yondu would notice if I kept this in my room?" Peter asked, balancing on the platform again.

"Yeah," Kraglin scoffed, "Pretty sure he will."

"He won't care," Peter shrugged, spinning again on the board, but maintaining his stance this time.

"Alright, c'mon," Kraglin sighed with impatience, "I need y'r'help, and get on that thing right or y'ain't comin' up here. Gonna fall in break somethin' 'n get my ass in shit," he grumbled the last bit.

Peter's arms felt like they were going to fall off after half an hour of replacing wires in the ceiling and the hovering platform had lost its appeal as his knees dug into the hard surface that no amount of shifting would alleviate.

"You about done with that?" Kraglin asked as he floated towards Peter from the second panel he'd just completed.

"Yeah," Peter bit his lip, concentrating on the tiniest wire he'd been trying to twist into its housing harness for several minutes.

"Want me t'get that one?" Kraglin offered.

"I got it," Peter snapped in frustration and roughly jammed the wire, only succeeding in bending the ends so he had to straighten it, again.

"Don't force it," Kraglin chided, "Just put it in gently."

"I am putting it in gently!" Peter insisted angrily, but tried once again with less pressure and finally the wire's tip slipped into the tiny hole in the harness unit.

"See?" Kraglin smiled smugly.

"Shut up," Peter muttered, "What's next?"

"We're ready for the wire assembly!" Kraglin called down to the ground and Yondu appeared under the ship.

"Pete gonna help you?" Yondu barked.

"Yes, sir, he's got it," Kraglin called back and the Captain nodded curtly before disappearing from the small section of ground the boys could see through the hole in the Eclector.

"What do I got?" Peter asked.

"They're gonna lift the wire assembly up here," Kraglin jerked his head as he floated towards the balcony and Peter followed, "We gotta attach it to the panels," pointing at the three wire access points on the ceiling and the two on either side wall, "the sides are easy, but the top's gonna be a pain."

Peter wondered why until a massive cylinder unit slowly rose from the hole. Kraglin shifted to a laying position across the length of the hover platform and Peter copied him, lowering onto his stomach.

"Okay, hold it there!" Kraglin yelled and the wiring assembly unit halted its upward progression with a little over a foot of space between its top and the ceiling.

It was uncomfortable to say the least, as the boys squeezed into the space and started connecting the new wires to the harness points on the assembly. Peter's hands were already clammy, but he started sweating after a few minutes in the cramped spot, thankful that clipping the wires into the assembly wasn't nearly as hard as replacing them had been.

"Good on that side, Pete?" Kraglin asked as he finished the second in record time.

"Yeah, we're good," he nodded, regretting it as soon as his head made contact with the ceiling.

When they'd backed out of the tight space and lowered to the platform like a couple of awkward looking turtles, Peter followed Kraglin's lead and flipped to a kneeling position.

"Alright, Pete, last two," the First Mate pointed at the wall panel on Peter's side as he floated towards the one on his.

His hands scraped the wall and side of the assembly unit while Peter fumbled to reach the wires, clipping them into the harness and tugging a bit to ensure they were connected. Kraglin backed to the platform just before Peter did and gave the teenager a proud nod.

"All set!" the First Mate hollered down the hole and the Peter peered over the balcony, astounded at the sight below the assembly unit.

A few of the Almax 3500's spindly legs were pushing the assembly unit into place, slowly growing longer and fatter as they telescoped from the ship Peter couldn't even see.

"How long do those arms get?" Peter asked in astonishment.

"Not sure," Kraglin shrugged, "seems t'be gettin' the job done though."

Peter nodded in agreement, crouching to watch between the balcony railings and catching a glimpse of the front of the bulbous craft, situated directly under where they stood in the Eclector. It was mesmerizing. The black arms of the ship extended to lift the assembly unit to its cradle in the ceiling and gently turned it a little to the right until it clicked and Kraglin called down to the Ravager directing whoever was behind the controls. Judging by the grace and accuracy, Peter assumed it was Yondu.

Kraglin checked the new addition, making sure it was securely in place, "All good! Ready for the fan!"

"Well, we ain't!" Horuz yelled up from the ground, "We're eatin', c'mon!"

Kraglin and Peter sighed at each other, but shrugged and took the emergency ladder through the hatch around the second curve to the ground, Peter slid down again, uncaring if Yondu saw him. Matbua was carving roasted griss, growling at any of the Ravagers who dared asked him for a larger portion as they passed in line.

Again, Peter and Kraglin took their lunches to the large, flat rock they'd found, perfectly warmed by the sun.

"How much more we gotta do?" Peter asked after a few bites, "After the fan's in."

"Well that's gonna take a little bit," Kraglin said, "but once we get that done not much."

"We gonna be done by tonight?" Peter wondered.

"We're on track t'get to the fest, yeah," Kraglin smirked and Peter smiled, "You wanna find some girls, huh?"

Peter felt his ears burn, but offered a small shrug of admittance, "Yeah, y'know, I don't know, we spend enough time with dudes, be nice t'hang out with some girls, a girl."

Kraglin chuckled, "Don't gotta explain it t'me, Pete, I get it."

"Is anybody else goin'?" Peter asked after a quick glance towards some of the other Ravagers.

"Prob'lly," Kraglin shrugged, "Capt'n can't very well let just us go. Why?"

"I don't want Horuz comin' with us," Peter said, "he'll scare of any of 'em we talk to."

"Don't' worry," Kraglin scoffed, "Pretty sure Horuz is gonna avoid you on every city trip from now on."

"So where we gonna go?" Peter asked.

"There's a few places," Kraglin shrugged, "Wapsgod's kinda a fun place, younger crowd. If they ain't changed it the upstairs is a dance floor."

"Yeah, well, maybe we don't go up there," Peter felt his ears burning hotter as Kraglin furrowed his brow.

"Thought you wanted t'meet girls," the First Mate chuckled, "That's where they are."

"I can't dance, though," Peter muttered.

Kraglin laughed out loud, "All you  _do_  is dance, kid!"

"That's just messin' around," Peter insisted, "I mean like, with a girl."

"Naw," Kraglin shook his head, "You'll be fine, them girls do all the movin', you just kinda gotta sway 'n stay with their rhythm. It ain't hard, hell if I can do it you sure as hell can."

Peter half grinned, hoping Kraglin was right.

"Boys tired?" Yondu appeared next to the rock again, startling both boys.

"Capt'n, I know we shouldn't've last night, I'm sorry again, we was just-" Kraglin's babbling ceased when Yondu lifted his large blue palm.

"We're not gonna talk about it anymore," the Captain said simply, "I know you two wanna make it to Worldmind."

"Are you gonna go?" Peter asked.

"Might," Yondu nodded, "Remember what I said, though, don't go wearin' your colors in there, not all folks around here take kindly to Ravagers."

"Folks 'round here don't take kindly t'anyone who ain't them," Kraglin grumbled.

"Just keep your asses outta trouble," Yondu ordered.

"Yes, sir," Peter and Kraglin answered together.

After lunch the entire crew helped ready the rotor fan wheel's position into the connecting assembly until, completing the largest part of the repair, but the installation wasn't as seamless as the wiring harness had been. Peter hadn't thought they were easy at the time, but as minutes became hours stuck on the same awkward angle, he began to realize the assembly unit had been a breeze.

Yondu was cursing and pounded the Almax 3500's steering controls a few times as he tried over and over to force the massive wheel up into the hole, the black, spindly arms slipped their grip once and the wheel fell to the ground with a hard thud, thankfully it hadn't been very high. Peter was beginning to lose hope that the job would be completed by the end of the day when the sun started setting.

Finally, with the rental ship's headlights blaring into the turbine hole while Yondu held the craft vertically under the Eclector and shoved the fan wheel into place with the help of almost every telescoping arm. Kraglin, Peter, Gef and Horuz quickly secured the huge piece in the assembly unit and sighed with satisfaction at the nearly completed new turbine.

"We're gonna make it," Peter was panting with exhaustion, but couldn't help his grin.

Kraglin smiled and nodded back, heaving for breath after the flurry of bolt tightening they'd just accomplished.

"World-mind?" Gef asked breathlessly.

The boys nodded and Gef and Horuz shared a look before wishing the boys fun, a bit sarcastically, and leaving the room towards the emergency hatch.

It was too dark to inspect their work and install the protective covers, so Yondu told them all to grab something to eat and get some rest, though a few crew members he directed towards the shower room after grimacing when he walked passed them.

Peter went to sleep early, so did Kraglin, having discussed at dinner their plans to wake up at sunrise to finish the turbine and spend as much of the day at the Worldmind festival as possible. A few others had plans to go, though most of them seemed frustrated that they wouldn't immediately be getting back in the air.

He woke the moment Kraglin tapped on his door the next morning, dressing quickly when the First Mate told Peter he'd meet him below deck. Peter rushed out of his bedroom and smacked directly into the Captain, shoving the man off balance, but thankfully not knocking him over.

"Sorry!" Peter grimaced.

"The hell you doin', always rushin' 'n runnin' into shit," Yondu grumbled as he straightened his jacket, Peter wanted to refute that he didn't often run into things and when he did, in a streak of freakishly bad luck, it was almost exclusively the Captain, but he kept his mouth shut.

Only the Captain, First Mate and Peter seemed to be awake, at least the were the only ones inspecting the turbine in the steadily brightening light of dawn. Kraglin silently made some adjustments and Peter craned his neck to watch over the older boy's shoulder, earning an explanation from the First Mate on the task he was performing.

Yondu used the rental ship's telescoping arms to hold the protective covers in place while Kraglin and Peter hovered underneath and secured the plates. They were just finishing the last few bolts when a group of Ravagers emerged from the emergency hatch.

"Nice job, boys," Yondu said to Kraglin and Peter, ignoring the others slowly crowding around him wearing guilty expressions, "Go eat somethin' 'n then take that ship back."

"Yes, sir," they echoed together and raced to the emergency hatch, Peter reached the ladder just before Kraglin.

They ate and showered before heading into their own rooms to change. Peter had been mentally considering his outfit since Yondu had offered to let them go to the Worldmind celebration and pulled on a long-sleeved, black shirt that was a little too tight, but made the young man look more muscular than he was and Peter liked that. His chest and arm muscles had become much more defined over the last year, but he was still scrawny.

With his dark red pants tucked into his black boots, Peter considered his appearance in his mirror and was fairly pleased with himself. His hair was sort of messy even as he pushed most of it to one side, curling some of it behind his ears and finally sighed in frustration before pushing out his door.

"Yeah!" Kraglin called after Peter knocked on his bedroom door.

"Hey," Peter stood in the open doorway, running his fingers through his mop of dirty-blonde hair, "Think you could cut this really quick?"

Kraglin turned from his own mirror where he was checking his recent shave and sighed as he nodded, "Yeah, c'mon."

Peter nearly jumped into the room at the invitation and stood in front of the mirror while Kraglin his clippers from his top dresser drawer. They looked like the kind of clippers Peter had seen at the barber back on Earth, but were a little bulkier to accommodate the tiny vacuum system on either side of the blades. The first time Kraglin had cut his hair Peter had freaked out at the sound, but the First Mate had showed him it was harmless, except to the sliced bits of hair that were instantly inhaled into the vacuum, fried by the internal heater and expelled out the back as smoke that quickly dissipated in the air.

"Jeez, kid," Kraglin scoffed after swiping upward on the back of Peter's neck, "your hair grows fast."

"Just don't make it goofy," Peter said.

"Well, y'gotta get down a little," Kraglin pushed Peter gently on the shoulder with his free hand, "You're almost as tall as me."

"I am as tall as you," Peter corrected while crouching a bit, hoping Kraglin would hurry because it was uncomfortable.

Kraglin didn't respond, but continued cutting Peter's hair, swiping up the back in slow, deliberate moves, his tongue clamped between his lips as he concentrated. Peter stifled a little giggle every time the clippers buzzed his neck, but expelled a short laugh when they grazed his ear.

"Alright, take a look," Kraglin said as he turned the clippers off and Peter felt relief as he straightened his legs and turned his head in the mirror.

His long, messy hair was now short on the sides and a bit longer on top, still leaving Peter with the option to push it one way or the other, but it was no longer falling in his eyes.

"Looks good, Krag, thanks," Peter nodded, "I'm about ready."

"Well, I ain't," Kraglin scoffed, gesturing for Peter to leave his room with one hand while shoving the clippers back in the drawer with the other.

"Lookin' good, boy," Peter whirled around outside Kraglin's closed bedroom door to see Yondu walking up the hallway, "You were startin' t'look like a girl."

"Thanks," Peter grumbled, running a hand absently over his new haircut.

"Where you two plannin' on headin'?" Yondu asked, stopping to cross his arms in front of the teenager.

"Kraglin mentioned some place called Wapsgod's," Peter shrugged.

"Goin' dancin' huh?" Yondu chuckled and Peter blushed, "Good thing y'cut y'r'hair then, lots'a girls there."

Peter felt his cheeks and ears burn hotter, "Yeah, well, I was just gettin' sick of it bein' in my face."

Yondu inclined his head slightly at the young man and jerked his head towards the front of the ship as he started walking, "C'mon."

"Why?" Peter whined, "I gotta get ready."

"Thought you were ready?" Yondu called over his shoulder without slowing his stride and Peter sighed, following the Captain begrudgingly to his quarters.

"What?" Peter asked after shutting the door.

"I wanted to talk to ya," Yondu scoffed, sitting in his arm chair and motioning the couch across from it, "Sit down."

"I didn't do anything," Peter insisted, wracking his brain to make sure that was true.

Yondu chuckled, "Y'did a good job helpin' get that new turbine in," the compliment surprised Peter, "But today, I know Kraglin knows how t'keep outta trouble at this thing, you gotta stick with him 'n don't do nothin' stupid."

"I won't," Peter said, but bit his lips together when Yondu scowled at his interruption.

"Y'might not mean to," Yondu continued, "but Xandar ain't like Contraxia, there's rules here, lots of 'em. Don't go gettin' in fights, either, if somebody starts somethin' with you, you walk away," he held up a large blue hand to stop the protest Peter was starting, "I don't care if you can take 'em and I know this is the exact opposite of everything I've always told ya, but not here, Pete. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," Peter nodded.

"Alright," Yondu seemed satisfied and continued in a direction Peter immediately found uncomfortable, "Now, I know you know Xandar's a mixed planet, lots'a refuges that've left their homes, so there's a lotta different girls here. Some of 'em ain't much t'look at, but I want you to remember, if y'r'nice to the plain ones their pretty friends are gonna like ya, and they always got pretty friends."

"But what if one I don't like, likes me?" Peter asked, feeling a bit anxious all of a sudden.

"Don't matter," Yondu scoffed, "Once you get the pretty ones talkin' you ain't gotta worry about it, just don't say nothin' stupid."

"Like what?" Peter's eyebrows raised nervously.

"Just ask 'em about themselves," Yondu shook his head with a small grin, "girls love t'talk about themselves."

"What if I, uh," Peter began timidly, "What if I wanna talk to, just, one of them?"

"That's a trick," Yondu laughed, "but if y'keep talkin' to just one, y'know be nice to the others, but focus on one, the rest of them'll sorta float away after a bit. But don't go spendin' all y'r'time with one girl just to find out she's got a boyfriend or somethin'."

"Do they do that?" Peter wondered.

"What? Talk t'other guys when they already got one?" Yondu scoffed, "Yeah, they're good at it, too. Most of the girls at that dance joint are gonna be there for the same reason as you though."

"What's that?" Peter knew his reason, but he didn't know Yondu did.

"Boy," Yondu grinned, "your brain has been one track on girls for months."

"I have, it's not," Peter tried to refute the allegation, but Yondu just laughed.

"You wouldn't have an idea what happened to those Berr magazines I had in my desk, would'ja?" Yondu challenged and Peter felt his ears burning bright red as his eyes met the floor briefly before staring at the Captain's red eyes and offering a complete lie.

"No."

Yondu smirked and shook his head, "I never cared for 'em anyway."

Peter grinned a little at the Captain. The magazines in question were stuffed under his mattress at that moment, a few pictures of gorgeous, naked female mamaliens were dogeared for quick reference. Kraglin had adamantly not wanted anything to do with it when Peter showed him what he'd pilfered from Yondu's quarters, insisting the teenager would be in for the beating of his life if the Captain found out. Peter thought it was kind of funny that Yondu knew and probably had since right after he'd taken the risqué publications, but he was not only not being punished, he was being allowed to keep them. Though, Yondu wasn't stupid and undoubtedly knew what the teenager had been using them for, he probably didn't want them back.

"Real girls ain't like that, though," Yondu said firmly, "Y'gotta be nice t'girls, all of 'em even if y'don't think they're pretty, 'cause y'never know-"

"Who their friends are," Peter finished and Yondu raised an eyebrow.

"Or who their Daddy is," he warned, "Don't go gettin' too nice either."

"Well, what am s'posed t'do then?" Peter tossed his arms up in frustration.

Yondu chuckled, "Be yourself, Pete, the girls are gonna love ya, but don't let one pull ya away with any promises, them ain't the girls y'want. Stick around Kraglin, you'll be fine."

Peter nodded his understanding, feeling much more nervous than before their conversation.

"And Pete," Yondu stopped him as the teenager walked around the back of the couch to leave, "I'm not kiddin', the Nova Corps'll throw ya in a holdin' tank for disturbin' the peace so no fightin'. So help me boy you'll be safer in there than when I get my hands on ya if that happens. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, absolutely resolved to not get in a fight.

"Hey, Pete," Kraglin was walking out of Peter's room when he caught sight of the younger man down the hall leaving the Captain's quarters, "was lookin' for ya. Talkin' t'Capt'n?"

"More like a lecture," Peter rolled his eyes, "Oh, he totally knows I took those Berr mags."

Kraglin's eyes bugged nearly out of his skull, but Peter laughed and told the First Mate about the exchange, feeling satisfied in his surprise at Peter's luck.

"Ready t'go?" Kraglin asked, "We gotta take the Almax back before we can head to the fest."

"Yeah, let's go," Peter felt excited again, finally leaving the Eclector for the Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance celebration.

_**Part 3 on the way soon! Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think (preferably of my story and style, but you know you can tell me how your day went too- we're all friends)** _


	26. Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance Part 3

_**PART 3** _

_**Have we discussed that I'm not "brief" well this whole story line got away from me, these characters came in and did their own thing and I feel like I've said this twice already, but the next part (Part 4) will be the last part of the focus on Worldmind Remembrance festival. If I didn't separate this into 3 and 4 you'd be waiting another week and trust me all 4 parts are equal length lol I don't know if any of you mind, I feel like I'm hitting a few prompt or suggestions in all of these, but I still feel bad that this is getting so long on this one and I hope I'm not boring anyone. Thank you Thank you for your continued support and reviews and ideas! I love them all and I'm trying my best to do the story and your ideas justice.** _

_**Part 3 (of 4- I swear that's it)** _

A few other crew members accepted Kraglin's offer of a ride into the city, but only the ride, insisting they'd be finding their own amusement at the festival as well as a way back to the Eclector. Peter knew none of them wanted to risk what had happened to Gef and Horuz after the debacle on Contraxia and he didn't really want to hang out with any of them anyway, but thought it was unfair they harbored silent blame at the teenager for letting himself get kidnapped. They clamored into the Almax 3500, Peter hurrying to take the co-pilot seat next to Kraglin, Oblo and Vorker took the jump seats behind them and the others just held onto the bare sides of the open cargo area.

"Can I drive?" Peter asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

"No," Kraglin said simply while turning on the ship's engines.

"Why not?" Peter scowled, but made sure his voice wasn't whiney.

"Capt'n's watchin'," Kraglin jerked his head towards the windshield without looking up, but Peter did and saw Yondu standing at one of the Eclector's large windows, hands on his hips, red eyes focused on the rental ship.

Peter smirked just before Kraglin lifted the bumbling craft from the ground and reached his fingers towards one of the front most touch pads that controlled each of the spindly arms under the ship, stretching it out and waving the tip at the Captain.

"Pete!" Kraglin barked, swatting his hand away and quickly swiping his finger in a counter-clockwise circle to reel in the arm.

Peter was sure Yondu laughed as he shook his head and walked away from the window, Kraglin shook his head and scoffed before taking off towards the city and the Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance festival.

The street they'd walked down was even more crowded than it had been and the ones beyond it, further into the city, were so jam packed with celebrating Xandarians Peter's stomach turned. He was excited, but he'd never been in a crowd like that before and the anticipation was a little nerve wracking as they flew towards the tall building of rental ships.

One of the bay entrances on an upper lever lit up green and Kraglin instinctively steered towards it, settling the large cargo craft onto the waiting pedestal. The front and back doors opened with a few button presses and Kraglin palmed the black fob, checking twice to make sure he had it before he and Peter followed the other Ravagers off the Almax 3500.

"Where's the blue fella?" the short, round man asked as he waddled towards them from the lift doors.

"Busy," Kraglin said simply, handing the man the fob, "Is it a problem?"

"Not if my ships alright," the man scoffed, passing the boys to inspect the craft.

"Need us to stick around?" Scrote asked the First Mate, but Peter could tell all the crew members were inching to the lift doors with no interest in waiting for the rental manager's assessment.

"Naw, I got it," Kraglin jerked his head and the Ravagers practically bolted to the exit.

The portly man walked in and around the Almax 3500, turning the ship on for a moment, testing a few spindly arms and then entered a code on a key pad outside the ship's bay. Clear doors sealed the spacecraft in its parking space and steam began clouding behind them.

"Looks good boys," the man said, gesturing for them to follow him, "I'll get'cha that deposit refund."

Peter gave Kraglin a side-eyed smirk, but the First Mate wasn't paying him any attention as he followed the manager to the lifts and back to the lobby below. The teenager grinned at the stack of units he handed Kraglin before they left, wondering if he could possibly convince the older Ravager to use some of the money at the festival. Doubtful, but worth a try.

"Hey, Krag, did you bring some money?" Peter asked innocently after they'd left.

"Course," he scoffed, "Didn't you?"

"Yeah, some," Peter shrugged, underexaggerating the amount of units in his pocket, having brought most of his small stash with to the festival, "but let me grab a couple bucks from the deposit return."

"Are you outta your mind?" Kraglin asked with shocked laughter.

"C'mon, he won't notice," Peter urged gently.

"No," the First Mate shook his head adamantly, "no way, not in a million cycles."

"Listen," Peter insisted, "if he notices a few missing we tell him the guy docked us for a couple scratches."

Kraglin expelled a hard, short laugh, "You wanna be the one he takes those couple scratches out on? 'Cause I don't,  _or worse_ , if he finds out we lied  _and_  stole his money?! Nope, not happenin', I'm no genius, but I ain't stupid."

Peter rolled his eyes after turning his head away from the First Mate, knowing he had a point, though fairly sure he could've safely defused the situation with some smooth talking to the Captain.

The streets became more congested as they pushed further into the festival. Turning a corner, music blared over the crowd, there was hardly room to walk between the small groups gathered tightly between the business. Many of the shops had a sign on the door stating they were closed so the proprietor could enjoy the Worldmind celebration, but all of the drinking and eating establishments were overflowing with patrons. Nova Corpsmen were stationed evenly along the edges of the crowd and Peter saw a few strolling aimlessly through the groups of people, all stone-faced, the only ones who did not seem to be enjoying the festival.

"So, where's Wapsgod's?" Peter asked.

"Few streets over," Kraglin made a small pointing gesture without much room to stretch his arms, "Let's get somethin' to eat first, though."

Peter agreed, the aromas surrounding him were making his stomach growl. They hadn't eaten much before cleaning up to leave, anxious to be on their way.

Even though Peter and Kraglin were equally taller than most, both strained on their toes to see over the many heads to the signs hanging over the pop-up food tents. The one offering deep fried meats and sweets was an easy agreement for them and they pushed their way to the back of the line.

"Jeez, there's a lotta people here," Kraglin grumbled after getting jostled by another passer-by.

"Yeah," Peter scoffed bitterly, "One more asshole bumps into me-"

"Nova'll throw you in the short-hold tank faster than you can blink," Kraglin warned, "Don't be a hot-head today, we can't afford it."

"Yeah, I know," Peter muttered.

The line moved slowly, painfully slowly, and Peter had a hard time concentrating on anything other than the nauseous feeling brewing at the back of his throat from hunger and Matbua's kinecch stew he'd eaten far too quickly. He was contemplating jumping the counter and snagging a handful of snacks when Kraglin nudged him in the side with his boney elbow.

"What?" Peter rubbed his side dramatically, it hadn't hurt, but he had a long-standing game about making the First Mate self-conscious about his pointy elbows.

"Shh," Kraglin hissed quietly, moving his eyes as far right as he could and returning to Peter twice, whispering through gritted teeth, "Three couples back from us."

Peter jerked his head down slightly to let Kraglin know he'd understood and waited a few moments before pretending to crane his neck to look over the crowd, he actually did see a stage with a band on it down the street and wanted to check that out, but, like he was searching for a friend they were waiting on, he turned in place and caught sight of two gorgeous girls a few feet behind them. He continued his rouse while turning back around and shot Kraglin a sideways smile, the First Mate returned it with a wink.

They each ordered fried orloni on a stick and whatever an occoacot was, but it reminded Peter of an extra cream filled Twinkie fried in corn flakes so there was no way he was passing it up.

"Can I get two logrs for us," Kraglin gestured the barrel of lime green liquid behind the attendants at the counter, "And, uh," he lowered his voice just a bit and leaned forward very slightly, "there's a couple girls behind them two Gunas, I'd like t'buy each'a them one too, please."

The pudgy woman working the tent smirked at Kraglin and nodded, taking the units he offered before turning to ready their order.

Peter wasn't sure what to say, staring at the First Mate in complete awe, he would've never believed Kraglin to make a move like that and his stomach started churning with the terrifyingly exhilarating prospect of having to have a conversation with the girls.

"You okay?" Kraglin chuckled.

"You bought them drinks," Peter whispered.

"Yeah," the older boy shrugged with a nervous grin, "Yondu taught me that trick, works most'a the time. We'll see."

They took their food and drinks and shuffled passed a group of well-lubricated middle-aged men to the side of the tent on the walkway behind it, still in view of the line, and the girls, as they leaned against a post. Peter had a treat in each hand and kept his drink pinned to his side in the crook of his elbow, just like Kraglin. Every time people shifted into his line of sight of the cute pair Peter shoved a sizeable portion in his mouth, he didn't want to look glutenous to the girls, nor did he want more than a drink in his hand if they came over to talk, and he was really, really hungry. When no one was paying attention, they tossed their sticks into the gutter, already littered with bits of garbage and, a little further down, a single shoe, which Peter thought was strange.

He took a bite of the treat that was starting to stick in his hand and moaned through a mouthful of delicious, deep-fried creamy goodness.

"I know," Kraglin coughed a little after a hard swallow and took a sip of his drink.

"How are you done?" Peter scoffed, checking the girls' position in line, next, crap, and shoved as much of the desert into his mouth as he could while turning his back to the tent.

Kraglin laughed, but at least he covered his mouth and tried not to, smiling at Peter when he turned back around, quickly chewing the last of it, "You'll never eat as fast as me, kid, y'never had to."

Peter shook his head with a smirk, noticing for a moment the actual street they were on, the buildings, the stores and the alleys, before looking at Kraglin again, "You grew up here?"

"Right here," he confirmed with a curt nod, "up 'til I hopped aboard with Capt'n, uninvited, but, he ain't killed me yet."

"Doubt he could function without you anymore," Peter scoffed, but it was true.

"Naw," Kraglin shook his head and his ears turned a bit pink, "A'right, they're up, just remember, y'know, don't say much, they like when you're kinda mysterious."

"Yeah," Peter had no idea what he was doing, what he would say, Yondu had told him to ask them about themselves and just shut up, Kraglin was telling him to just shut up, so Peter thought the best thing to do would be shutting up.

"You like one or the other more?" Kraglin asked, his nervous grin widening while he kept his eyes on the pair at the counter and the woman gestured a chubby arm in the boys' direction.

"They're both pretty," Peter admitted, "The shorter one with pink hair though, she's, uh, I mean she looks a little younger than the other too, y'know."

"Yeah, you're right," Kraglin nodded, "Man, you like the pink hair, huh?" Peter furrowed his brow in confusion, "Isn't that y'r'favorite? Saw y'had her bookmarked in the Berr with Jaxxy Debent-"

"Dude!" Peter hissed wide eyed, "First, screw you," he shoved the First Mate, but not hard enough to make him spill his drink, "Second, I thought you didn't want anything t'do with those?"

"You already took 'em," Kraglin shrugged, "Gave it a little bit 'n when Capt'n didn't say nothin', y'know-"

"You busted into my room and stole 'em?" Peter scoffed.

"Borrowed," Kraglin corrected, "You stole, I returned."

"You're disgusting," Peter said.

"You're one t'talk," Kraglin chuckled.

"Uh, hi."

The high-pitched, sweet voice caught them off guard and Peter watched Kraglin swallow hard as he felt himself do the same before they turned to the pair of girls who were even prettier standing a few feet in front of them.

"Thank you, I'm Delia," the taller, purple-haired young woman smiled and raised her drink, she was a few years older than her companion, who Peter was sure couldn't be much older than him, "This is my sister, Cynia."

"Hi," Kraglin managed, "I'm, uh, Kraglin, this is Peter. Y'r'uh, very welcome, it's a warm day."

"Are you two from here?" Delia asked, "I don't recognize you."

The corners of Kraglin's mouth twitched upward, "No, just passin' through, thought we'd check out the fest."

"It's great isn't it?" Cynia smiled at Peter and he stopped breathing, but managed a nod, he thought.

"Yeah," Kraglin answered for him, "I was here a few cycles ago, I don't remember it bein' this big."

"Oh, gosh," Cynia giggled, "It gets bigger every year! Cycles," she giggled again, "Do live in a ship?"

Kraglin and Peter's eyebrows raised in surprise, but Delia spoke before either of them could.

"Wow, Cynia," she sighed, "Some people do that, lots of them-"

"No, I know," Cynia interrupted defensively, flittering her focus between the boys, her sister and the ground while her cheeks turned a light shade of pink and Peter thought she looked even cuter somehow, "I didn't mean it like, I'm sorry, I wasn't, I think that's cool actually, really-"

"It's not that cool," Peter assured her with a small grin, his heart pounding when she smiled at him again.

"Well, I'd love to leave this rock," Delia said, "What's it like? Other places?"

"Different I guess," Kraglin said after a few moments, clearly wracking his brain for an answer.

"There's this one place, Dakkam," Peter said, flexing a curled arm, "Everybody there is just  _ripped_ , like Schwarzenegger on steroids."

"I have no idea who that is," Cynia giggled, "but I think I know what you mean."

"Yeah," Kraglin scoffed, "Peter's good at references nobody else gets."

He would've shot the First Mate a dirty look, but he didn't want the girls to see and think Kraglin had gotten to him, he hadn't. Peter liked his references even if nobody else got them.

"So, are you guys headed somewhere?" Delia asked.

They shared a very quick glance before simultaneously shaking their heads.

"No," Kraglin said, "just seein' what's goin' on, maybe find a party."

"Yeah?" she smiled at him and giggled, "We thought we'd go check out that band and all the old people dancing for a few, it's ridiculous, but kinda fun for a minute."

"Let's go," Kraglin jerked his head in invitation and the girls actually looked excited, linking their arms together as they led the boys through the crowd and spoke with their heads so close they may as well have been attached.

"It worked," Peter whispered through gritted teeth and Kraglin tapped his cup against Peter's, but neither bothered to try and take a drink while walking passed the tight groups to the stage.

The band had strange instruments Peter had never seen, though one member seemed to be playing something similar to a guitar, if someone had connected the necks of two together and thrown away the body, but the music wasn't bad. Cynia started rocking her hips as they got closer and Peter felt his insides twist a bit watching her tight skirt bounce side to side. He glanced at Kraglin, half expecting the First Mate to smack him on the back of his head like when he'd caught him ogling Kona in her red pants, but Kraglin offered an encouraging smirk.

Delia turned with a pretty smile at Kraglin, reaching for his untucked shirt and tugged him towards her as she stepped away from her sister in the small opening of space they'd found on the edge of the dance area. Cynia jerked her head slightly with a tiny grin and Peter needed no further invitation to step next to her.

"Are you two brothers?" Delia asked Kraglin, nearly yelling over the music.

"Crew mates," he answered loudly, "but yeah, basically with as much time as we spend together."

"So, what do you guys do?" Cynia asked, distracting Peter from the others' conversation and pulling him into their own.

"We're inter-galactical couriers," Peter repeated the lie Kraglin had told him to tell if the question was asked and Cynia seemed content with her response, but the Captain's advice echoed in Peter's head, "So, uh, what d'you do? School or somethin'?"

She giggled, making Peter's stomach turn, "I just started at Nova Academy, Delia's in her third year."

"Y'gonna be a Corpsmen?" Peter asked and Cynia giggled again, making him a bit self-conscious, but she was still smiling at him so that had to be a good thing.

"Research division," she told him, shaking her head, "I'm the bookworm, my brother and sister are the Corpsmen, well Delia  _will_  be when she's done."

"Your brother's in Nova?" he raised his voice a little more to make sure Kraglin heard him.

"Second year Corpsmen," Delia said proudly, "He's around somewhere."

Peter caught a look Kraglin shot him over her head and he silently agreed with the First Mate that meeting the girls' brother would not be on their list of activities if they could help it.

"So, what's the academy like?" Peter asked Cynia, not at all interested in the response.

"Exhausting," she sighed, then giggled again, "but most of the classes are really interesting! I love Inter-galactical Statistics and Species Varying Psychology, it's  _so_  interesting."

"What's that?" he asked, actually interested in the answer.

"Studying how different mamalien species think and process emotions," she said brightly, "And of course, all intelligent beings are individually different, regardless of their nationality, so there's just a ton to learn and theorize about, I'm sorry," Cynia giggled, "I'm sure this is super boring to you."

"Not at all," Peter shook his head, sure he was lying, but he liked listening to her talk, having decided her giggles were just a nervous habit and found them very cute.

"Where are you from? You look Syrian. Are you Syrian?" she asked quickly.

"Uh, Terra, Earth," he used both terms, unsure which she was familiar with, if either.

"Really?" Cynia's eyebrows raised in surprise, "Isn't that a closed society?"

"Yeah," Peter shrugged, "I mean, there's a lot of people who think there's more out there, well here, but it's not like here that's for sure. I haven't been back since I left, sort of a weird situation, I guess."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Yondu's words reminded him not to talk about himself, besides, he wasn't interested in trying to explain the strange circumstances of his abduction and situation with the Ravagers he didn't entirely hate.

"Nothin'," he shook his head, "don't worry about it," Peter knew it wasn't the right thing to say, but it rolled off his tongue and he could see the sad skepticism in Cynia's eyes, simply glad when she continued away from the topic.

Cynia told him about her classes and the other students in the Nova Corps Research Division Program, RDP's as she continually referred to them. Peter had never heard someone talk so fast without breathing occasionally, he was impressed, but could only pay attention to some of what she said, she said a lot. Kraglin and Delia were conversing back and forth, laughing sometimes, and standing closer by the minute.

"Don't you think?" Cynia was staring at him with adorable anticipation and Peter's stomach sank to his knees.

"Uh, yeah," he nodded, filling with relief when she smiled and continued with whatever she was talking about.

The band wrapped their set and it wasn't as loud for a few minutes while the next set up their instruments, making it much easier to hear Cynia, but no easier to actually listen. She was really pretty, though, her bright blue eyes shimmered with excitement over the information she'd devoured since starting at Nova Corps Academy and her pouty lips, Peter had noticed they were plump the few times they'd stopped moving, he couldn't stop thinking about kissing her.

"I need another drink," Delia announced, "Our treat this time."

"Not a chance," Kraglin smirked and jerked his head at Peter.

"We'll be right back," Peter said.

"Can't wait," Cynia smiled mysteriously, like the girls in the Berr magazines under his mattress.

Peter knew she wasn't that kind of girl, but if he could kiss her before they left, well that would be something.

"How's it goin'?" Kraglin asked when they were out of ear shot, nearing the closest line for the lime-green logr.

"Good," he nodded, "she talks a lot, but it's cool."

"Yeah," Kraglin scoffed lightly, "I noticed, but she seems smart at least. Delia sure is."

"She's gonna be a Corpsman, huh?" Peter asked, pushing his way to the back of the line in the bustle of festival goers.

"Their Dad just retired," Kraglin said, "Brother's in, think she said their Mom's still in data maintenance too. Lotta the Nova Corps is generational, keeps their secrets close. Hell, I don't think you can even be one'a the higher levels if y'ain't born to them."

"That sucks," Peter thought aloud, "I mean, y'know, just, what if somebody who's better suited for a higher level can't get the job 'cause they don't have the right parents?"

Kraglin shrugged, "Just how it is some places."

"Yeah," Peter nodded, "Terra too, some places."

"Hey, boys," they both turned at the greeting to see Saman with his fake smile and a fresh drink, "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Same," Kraglin growled.

"It's the last day," Saman lifted his drink, gesturing the crowd, "it'd be treasonous not to."

"Thought treason was kinda y'r'specialty," Kraglin said and Peter was proud watching Saman's smug grin falter.

"Better watch y'r'tone with me, boy," Saman warned, "or I'll be talkin' to your Captain about you."

"Tell him I said hi," the First Mate smirked.

Saman huffed a little before taking a sip of his drink, scowling for a long moment at Kraglin and briefly Peter before stalking away.

"Man," Peter expelled a laugh, "that was awesome!"

"Yeah," Kraglin muttered weakly, "Don't, uh, mention that t'anybody though, definitely not the Capt'n. Okay?"

"Sure, yeah," Peter furrowed his brow in confusion, but he didn't bother questioning him, knowing Kraglin well enough that his body language promised a lie if he got a response at all.

The line moved much faster than the food tent since it was served drinks and Peter shoved a few units in Kraglin's hand just before it was their turn.

"You paid earlier, and that was more," Peter shrugged when the First Mate gave him a bewildered expression.

Kraglin nodded appreciatively and pocketed the cash.

With a drink in each of their hands, the boys carefully made their way through the crowd back to the edge of the concert. For a few moments before the little patch of ground they'd claimed came into view, Peter was nervous the girls had left, but, when an overweight man with a row of horns on his head moved out of their way, he saw Cynia and Delia, waiting where they'd left them.

"Thank you," she smiled her sweet smile at Peter when he handed her a drink.

"Y'r'welcome," his lips felt tight as he responded, taking a sip of his own drink quickly to cover what he was sure was a goofy smile.

"I shouldn't have too many of these," Cynia giggled.

"Why?" Peter asked.

"I know there's like almost no alcohol in it," she giggled again, "but after like four I'm toast."

"Really?" he chuckled, he had no idea there was any alcohol in the drink, but supposed he'd had such a slow and steady exposure over years on the Eclector he'd built up a small tolerance, even the few times he'd actually drank with the crew he'd been able to hold his own, for a little while.

"I'm a light weight," she admitted, "but I don't go out much. We were, uh, thinking of hitting up one of the clubs tonight though, I don't know if you guys are doin' anything."

Her words trailed off and Peter nodded adamantly, "Yeah, no, I mean, we're not doin' anything. We were gonna hit up some place, Wapsgod's I think."

"Yeah!" Cynia exclaimed, "That's where Delia was saying! She's been there, I haven't-"

"Where have I been?" Delia interrupted from her conversation with Kraglin.

"Wapsgod's," Cynia said, "Did you still wanna go?"

"Yeah," her sister nodded, "I mean, we'd love for you guys to join us."

"That's where we was plannin' to head," Kraglin grinned.

"Perfect," Delia smiled at him and Peter saw the color in the First Mate's ears darken.

The next band wasn't nearly as good as the last and the group mutually agreed to find somewhere else to finish their drinks. Cynia snaked her arm through Peter's as they led the older two, blaming her unnoticeable decrease in balance on the mildly alcoholic beverage, but Peter hoped it was a flirtation. He was fairly sure she'd been flirting with him, but she giggled so much it was hard to tell.

His stomach lurched when she pulled her arm quickly from his and started waving at one of the wandering Corpsmen.

"Rhomann! Hi!"

Peter snuck a quick glance to Kraglin, who's eyes narrowed in a silent direction to stay calm and shut up.

"Cynia, Delia," the tall, curly haired young man greeted the girls with a smile, but it faded as his gaze shifted to their companions, "Who's this?"

"Oh," Cynia smiled brightly, "This is Peter and Kraglin, they're inter-galactical couriers, guys, this is our brother, Rhomann, uh, Corpsman Dey."

"Nice t'meet'cha," Kraglin spoke first.

"Yeah, you too," Rhomann's skepticism was etched all over his face, "Couriers, huh? What company?"

"Private sector," Kraglin said confidently, "Don't work much for the gover'ments, they don't pay well 'n it's like pullin' teeth t'get 'em to even do that."

"Don't I know it," Corpsmen Dey laughed and turned to his sisters, "I gotta keep up my rounds. Delia, where you two headed?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "might just wander for a bit."

"Just keep her outta the clubs," he nodded at Cynia, who made an exasperated sound as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever, Rhomann," Delia scoffed lightly, "We'll see you later, okay? Bye!"

Cynia dragged Peter as Delia pulled Kraglin away from their brother, who the boys offered matching apologetic grimaces while allowing the girls to take them from the awkward situation.

"So, that's y'r'brother?" Peter asked Cynia once they'd slowed down.

"Yup," Delia sighed.

"You two don't really look like him," Kraglin commented, eyeing their colorful hair.

"This?" Delia giggled, twisting a strand of her purple locks around a finger, "Just a semi-perm, last week it was dark blue."

"That's cool," Peter smiled at Cynia and her bright, pink hair, "So the guys with different colored hair around here, are they,  _that_  too?"

"Mostly," Cynia shrugged.

"Your brother's not into that huh?" Kraglin chuckled lightly.

"No," they both scoffed and Cynia continued, "He's a total straight, hardly ever goes out and does anything when he can. He's seriously allergic to fun!"

"Not as bad as Saal," Delia giggled.

"No," Cynia joined her, shaking her head in adamant agreement, "Thank goodness, I don't think that guy even  _can_  smile!"

"Another Corpsmen?" Peter asked after sharing a confused look with Kraglin.

"Yeah, few years higher than Rhomann, on the fast track to being a Denarian," Cynia nodded, lowering her voice with dramatic sarcasm, "He's  _very_  serious."

Peter and Kraglin chuckled with the girls at Cynia's impression and Kraglin slipped his arm around Delia's waist as they continued through the crowded streets. Peter instantly felt strangely jealous, wanting to do the same with Cynia, but finding himself too nervous to give his arm the cue.

"Did you wanna head to Wapsgod's soon?" Kraglin asked, "We gonna have t'get goin' before it's late, headin' out early in the mornin'."

"Really?" Delia asked with obvious disappointment.

"That's too bad," Cynia pouted her bottom lip a tiny bit at Peter, stirring a feeling in his lower gut he usually only got alone in his room with one of Yondu's stolen magazines.

"I know," Peter shrugged.

"Let's have fun while we can, huh," Kraglin grinned, squuezing Delia gently into his side.

"C'mon," she smiled and jerked her head in the direction they were already heading, "Wapsgod's is this way."

Kraglin shot Peter a quick warning glance that ended with a smirk, silently telling him not to join in with the girls' negativity about their departure and put a damn smile on his face. He did.

"So, you've never been there before?" he asked Cynia as they followed the older two through the crowd.

"No," she shook her head, "You can't go there unless you're at least in the academy, or of academy age I guess. My parents don't care now that I am, but Rhomann," Cynia scoffed, "He had a fit when Delia joined the corpsmen program, and seriously, it's like he hates if we intrude on his world at all."

"Wapsgod's  _his_  world, huh?" Peter chuckled, thinking how the young corpsman he met didn't strike him as the dancing type.

"No," she giggled, "Not specifically, but his friends and other corpsmen go there, it drives him crazy 'cause some of them, well, never mind."

"What?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," she shook her head, cheeks ablaze, "really. I talk too much."

Peter wasn't going to disagree, "Seriously, what? Now I'm curious."

"Well," Cynia wouldn't meet his eyes and shrugged a little, "some of them, kinda, have, y'know, asked me out."

"Yeah?" Peter smiled, having no idea why because a part of him felt madly jealous, "You go?"

"No," she shook her head and then shrugged again, "well, once, but we never went out again."

"Why not?" he asked.

"He was just, boring," Cynia admitted, "Most Nova guys are."

"Well, I'm not Nova," Peter smirked as mysterious and sexily as he could manage.

"No, and you're not boring," Cynia giggled, threading her fingers between his and tugging him close as she lifted on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, "I told you!" she giggled again, "I shouldn't have too many of those!"

"You seem good to me," Peter winked, she blushed and he squeezed her hand a little in his.

She did too, he wasn't lying about that, nobody had to tell Peter not to take advantage of a girl when she wasn't in her right mind, he would never be that guy he was sure.

The line to get into Wapsgod's was around the corner, but the group got in the back of it anyway.

"Man, this is crazy," Delia shook her head at the line, "I've never seen it this busy!"

"Lotta people here," Kraglin commented.

"Hey," Delia turned to Peter and her sister, "Save our spots, we're gonna go grab more drinks."

Kraglin's eyebrows jumped twice at Peter with an almost silly grin on his face before he followed Delia away from the line.

"So, uh," Peter began, unsure what to say and remembering what Yondu had said about just asking girls about themselves, it seemed to be working, "What do you do outside'a school? For fun?"

"Well, the academy takes most of my time," Cynia admitted, "this is honestly the first time I've really been out for fun in a while, but sometimes my sister and I watch the pre-corpsmen competitions when we have time."

"What's that?" Peter asked, he liked the simple questions followed by nodding while she spoke, though he found himself focusing more on what she was actually saying and nodded from interest instead of protocol.

"A few times every quarter the senior corpsmen students compete in, like, a lot of different stuff," she explained, "Races, lifting competitions, pilot skills-"

"Pilot skills?" Peter couldn't help himself, feeling a smile pushing on his cheeks.

"Yeah, you fly?" Cynia's eyebrows raised with excited intrigue.

"Uh, yeah, a little, sometimes," he shrugged, his ears burning and Peter knew he shouldn't've said anything, "So, you just study all the time mostly?"

"Yeah," she giggled, "Mostly. Though I like to read a lot of it for pleasure, other places are so interesting. Like, Terra! I mean, I've only heard of it, there's not much information available beyond like the climate and species types. What was it like? I'm sorry, I don't mean, I'm sure you don't, not like," Cynia took a deep breath, crossed her arms and shook her head, her eyes seemed a bit teary.

"No, hey, it's fine," Peter put his hands on her elbows, peering down with the hope she'd look up at him, "Cynia, seriously, it's a planet, I've been to a few now," he chuckled, earning a small glance and a little grin, "Terra, we humans call it Earth, but it's kinda like this, y'know with forest and water and different climates in different hemispheres depending on the time'a year, uh rotation, y'know."

Cynia's eyebrows had risen as she stared at him with shock, "Wow, you've studied Xandar's climates and spherical sections?"

"Yeah, uh, I mean," Peter wasn't sure how to answer, he'd been forced to study every civilized, and mildly civilized, planet in over a dozen connected galaxies, he didn't remember them all, but Xandar had actually been quite interesting, "It reminds me of Earth in a lotta ways so it's kinda easy to remember."

"Oh," Cynia smiled and seemed satisfied with his answer, "Yeah, that's just so interesting to me, not to mention the technology differences. I mean some places everyone basically is born with superpowers and then you've got planets that have only recently learned how to create a combustion engine!"

"Like Terra?" Peter smirked.

"No," Cynia's eyes widened in horror, "I didn't mean-"

"I'm kidding," he chuckled, rubbing her upper arms gently up and down, "but you can say it, Earth  _is_  primitive, compared to the connected societies, yeah, pretty much the Flintstones."

"The who?" she inclined her head.

"It's, uh, a Terra thing," Peter smiled and Cynia smiled and he really wanted to kiss her full, pink lips.

Delia and Kraglin returned a few minutes later with drinks for all of them, but these were blue and Peter could taste more of a kick, Cynia coughed after her first small sip.

"What is this?" she asked in a tight, squeaky voice, but took another, larger sip only moments later.

"A Bamhana," Delia said, "Good, right?"

Peter thought it was too sweet and could tell by the small eyeroll Kraglin snuck between them that the First Mate agreed, but they drank and continued lively conversations while shuffling closer to the front door of Wapsgod's. The front door was at least in sight, finally.

The wait wasn't unbearable with the girls keeping them company and, briefly after finishing their Bamhanas, the group was first in line to go into the club. The thumping music had gotten louder as they neared Wapsgod's, but, when the door opened to let a few patrons out, the electric style notes blared onto the street.

The security guard, who Peter was sure by his size was a Dakkamian, waved the girls forward, letting them pass him and then crooked his hand lazily at Kraglin. Peter watched the First Mate allow the massive man to run his hands down his sides quickly, turning when instructed and stepping towards the girls in just a few moments. The process seemed highly intrusive and Peter wondered why the girls weren't subjected to it, but figured they were historically less likely to bring weapons to a public place and kill mass amounts of strangers, stepping towards the Dakkamian when the large hand gestured to him. It was exactly as uncomfortable as Peter anticipated, but no worse, and he was just glad when the man let him pass and he could follow Cynia in her short skirt up a narrow flight of stairs.

Another large security guard stood at the first landing in front of a closed door, the thumping music echoed above them, pouring down the continuing staircase.

"Let's get another drink," Delia suggested, pointing at the closed doors, but they split and slid into the ceiling and floor as soon as she'd approached them.

The room beyond was much quieter, drowning out the music when the doors snapped back together. A long bar flashed in neon colors along the back wall and small groups of patrons stood at high topped tables and along the bar in lively conversations. The dark room wasn't devoid of music, but it was at a volume that allowed them to speak without yelling.

"I like to have a couple'a drinks here first," Delia said, "Kinda work my way up."

"I'm okay with that," Kraglin grinned.

"Okay," Cynia agreed tentatively, "but I need something like, super light."

"We can do that," Delia nodded.

"Pete, wanna kojaq?" Kraglin asked as the bartender walked over.

"Sure," he shoved a few more units at the First Mate, but Kraglin pushed them away.

"I got it," he assured Peter with a smirk.

"C'mon," Peter insisted, sure Kraglin would give him crap about it later when the alcohol's effects had worn off.

"Really, kid, don't worry about it," he shook his head and pushed Peter's hand away again.

Peter's ears burned at the word 'kid', he definitely wasn't that anymore and Kraglin damn well knew it, but he decided it was better to have that argument later.

"Alright, thanks then," Peter shrugged, shoving his money back in his pocket.

Delia had ordered her sister a rather extravagant, sweet concoction that she promised didn't have much alcohol, so they stood at the bar for a while sipping their own while waiting for Cynia's to finish.

"Oh, no," Delia whispered to her sister, but loud enough for the boys to hear, "don't look, but Denarian Goch is at the other end of the bar."

"Did he see me?" Cynia's eyes were wide, obviously forcing herself not to turn.

"I don't know," Delia shrugged.

"Who're we talkin' about?" Peter peered around them and Delia smacked him on the shoulder.

"Don't," she shook her head, "You  _don't_  wanna invite  _that_  over."

"Who is he?" Kraglin asked.

"No one," Cynia shook her head, even in the dim light Peter could see her blushing, "he's just one'a the administrators at the academy."

"He's gross," Delia said in a low voice, "He picks his  _favorite_  girls outta every class-"

"Shut up, Delia," Cynia sounded like she was pleading.

"I didn't say it was a good thing," Delia insisted, "I'm glad he never singled me out. Guy's a total creeper."

"We talkin' about the older guy in the Nova uniform?" Kraglin asked quietly.

"Yeah, why?" Delia nodded.

"He's comin' over," the First Mate mumbled through tight lips.

_**Part 4 coming soon!** _


	27. Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance Part 4

**PART 4 (and the promised end) Woo! Man, I really hope y'all like this 'cause true story, this was a lot of work. I got a little soap-boxy I'll admit, but I think this is a problem a lot of women deal with (I know I do on a regular basis) plus the metoo movement at its core holds a lot of meaning for me, so yeah, I went there. I hope you enjoy, I hope it leaves you with some thoughts as well as giving you some laughs.**

**Side note- I recently read a story by a reviewer on this story that completely blew me away! It's super well written and paints such an enthralling picture of Kraglin and what is a really accurate idea for his early life and beginnings on the Eclector. I highly recommend you check it out**

**http://archiveofourown.org/works/12182574/chapters/27655950**

**Please enjoy the last installment of the Nova Corps Worldmind Remembrance festival, I look forward to hearing what you think! Happy Reading!**

"Please don't leave," Cynia's wide eyes turned to Peter as she whispered her frantic request and he offered a reassuring expression, having no plans to go anywhere and especially curious to meet Denarian Goch.

"Cynia, I thought that was you," the eerie man said as he approached and the girls' grimaces became smiles as they turned to him, "Delia, nice to see you."

"Denarian Goch," they said together, bowing their heads a bit respectfully.

"Are you enjoying the festival, sir?" Delia asked.

"Of course," Denarian Goch lifted his drink with a smile, "What's not to enjoy? And you seem to have made some new friends. You boys haven't been through the academy?"

"No, sir," Kraglin shook his head, "Just passin' through."

"You do look a little," Denarian Goch trailed off as he narrowed his eyes at Kraglin, "Are you sure I don't know you from anywhere?"

"Don't believe so," Kraglin lifted his drink and took a long sip, hiding himself behind the glass.

"And how does a Xandarian find themselves  _just passing through_  the Worldmind festival?" the Nova officer inquired and Peter worried he'd become suspicious.

"Inter-galactical courier," Kraglin said simply, "Left Xandar years ago, but we stop often enough."

"Interesting," he nodded with a small grin, "And your family, do they still live here?"

"Not for a while," Kraglin's responses were pointed and short, obvious he didn't want to discuss his Xandarian heritage, especially not his family.

"Are you a courier as well?" Denarian Goch's sudden attention to Peter surprised the teenager, but he nodded quickly, "Always best to learn a trade young. Speaking of, Cynia, I'll be starting a rather large project with the Data Maintenance department, your Mother will be one of the leads and we'll be including a few academics for a hands-on experience in the field. I know it isn't your area of expertise, but since you've expressed an interest I took the liberty of signing you up as one of the few students involved."

"Denarian Goch," Cynia was obviously surprised and stumbled over her appreciation, "Thank you, but I'm only first year. Shouldn't an older student, actually  _in_  the Data Maintenance program get that opportunity?"

"Do you not want the chance to experience the intricacies of Worldmind and the Nova Force it creates for us?" his tone was baiting as he smirked at the pretty young woman.

"No, of course, I do," Cynia's cheeks were pink while she shook her head, "I just, thought, that sounds like something a senior data student would really appreciate seeing, I would too, very much, I just-"

"Then think no more about it," Denarian Goch scoffed lightly, "You'll have the details soon enough."

"Thank you, sir," she forced a tightlipped smile.

"Um, girls," Kraglin interrupted softly, "I hate to say this, but we're gonna have t'be on our way in a little while."

"We  _have_  to dance," Delia said firmly and turned to the Nova officer, "Excuse us Denarian Goch, we promised our new friends some fun before they have to get back to their cramped courier ship. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, girls," he smirked, but Peter saw a snarl trying to break on his lips, "I'll see you later I'm sure."

"Can't wait," Delia muttered under her breath while pulling Kraglin and leading the younger two away from the bar.

"Are you really leaving soon?" Cynia asked with disappointment.

"Not 'til tomorrow," Peter shrugged, "he just said that to get us away from that guy."

Cynia giggled, "Wow, you guys are good."

"Part'a the job," Peter chuckled.

"Really?" she inclined her head, "I wouldn't think couriers got into awkward situations that often."

Peter felt his ears heating as he hurried to think of a response, but Kraglin called over his shoulder just as they reached the doors and thumping music poured into the room when they slid open.

"We serve sentencing papers sometimes."

Cynia nodded with understanding and Peter sighed internally, extremely impressed by Kraglin's quick thinking.

He followed that short skirt up another couple flight of stairs, nearly colliding with her when they reached the topmost landing where the thumping music originated. Flashing neon lights were so frequent Peter thought for a moment he was having a strange vision attack, but soon realized he was only at risk for a seizure. When his eyes adjusted he saw the entire room was filled with dancers.

All species, all colors, all genders (and non-genders) and even a few off-duty Nova officers in slightly disheveled uniforms littered the large floor.

Peter couldn't tell where the music was coming from, but it surrounded them, like the speakers had been placed directly in his ear drum. Cynia seemed to enjoy it and bobbed her head while rocking her hips side to side, brushing against Peter twice, making him consider it wasn't an accident while trying to keep his instant excitement in check.

"Oh, these are  _so_ good!" Delia yelled, waving an orange man with a tray of glowing, neon tubes towards them.

"Is it gonna get me drunk?" Cynia giggled, taking a florescent pink tube her sister offered.

"You'll be fine with one," Delia assured her, handing Peter and Kraglin green tubes and taking a blue for herself before the orange waiter walked away.

"To you ladies," Kraglin smiled, lifting the thin shot glass.

"To much needed breaks and short-term friendships," Delia smirked, lifting hers.

"Here, here," Kraglin agreed and Peter and Cynia tapped their florescent tubes against the others before downing the sweet liquid, though Peter definitely tasted a kick at the end.

Cynia's hand few to her mouth to stifle her instant coughing fit, but she at least managed to keep down her liquid. Peter remembered the first time he had a real drink with a few of the Ravagers, he could still hear their laughter from when he'd spit the kojaq all over himself and the floor at his feet.

"I, uh," Cynia glanced at the dancers longingly, "I need to move, get some of this outta my system."

"Okay," Peter shifted his eyes with uncertainty.

"Dance with me," she demanded with a sweet smile.

"Oh-okay," he let her take his hand and followed Cynia to the dance floor, sending the First Mate a rather nervous look, Kraglin gave him an amused grin, Peter scowled and decided it was best to be honest and let the pretty girl decide not to dance with a novice, "I, uh, I've never really danced before, like real dancing."

"That's okay," she yelled back, despite their close proximity, "I'll show you."

She did. Cynia and her short skirt swayed and bumped, knocking into Peter's hips and, occasionally, gently grinding against his groin, doing absolutely no favors for the sensations he was already fighting. Peter let his legs, his hips, fall into her flow, the music was faster than he was used to and there weren't any lyrics or hint of an end point, simply a symphony of thumping and ever changing electrical notes, but if it kept Cynia's behind pressed against his crotch it was the sweetest song in the universe.

She turned suddenly, leaving no space between her torso and Peter's, putting her arms around her neck and tugging his head down. His heart beat hard, trying to quickly, and discreetly, moisten his lips and stop his hands from sweating, but Cynia's lips found his ear.

"Denarian Goch is up here," she whispered loudly, "by the bar, don't look!"

Peter's eyes flashed away from scanning the bar at her command and he let his lips touch her ear as he spoke, "Maybe he likes dancing."

"Don't let him dance with me, okay?" Cynia looked up at him with wide, nervous eyes and Peter felt sad for her, but mostly angry at the man who made her so anxious.

"Not a chance," Peter assured her, not looking away from her eyes, appreciating the little bit of calm that seemed to wash over her.

The tip of Cynia's tongue flicked across her lips, sticking her plump bottom one out a bit as she rubbed them together. Peter couldn't stop himself, nor did he try, his hand found the back of her neck and he brought his lips down on hers. They were as soft and sweet as he expected, but Peter forced himself to stifle his eagerness, falling into the rhythm of Cynia's lips.

He felt her pull away after a few moments and Peter tried to govern his heavy breathing, holding Cynia close around the waist as they stared into each other's eyes, the rest of the lively room had disappeared. She was beautiful, so beautiful Peter's heart wouldn't stop pounding in his chest, worsening when her lips formed a smiled and he found his own touching them again. They were a magnet and he couldn't help himself, eagerly slipping his tongue into her mouth when she parted her lips, but retracting it back quickly, afraid he would scare Cynia. When her tongue pushed into his mouth, however, Peter's kiss was renewed, with fire.

Cynia pulled away after a few moments, maybe minutes, Peter wasn't concerned with time.

"Everyone's looking at us," she giggled, her flushed cheeks made her somehow even prettier.

"Don't care," Peter smirked, tightening his hold on her waist gently.

"How about," Cynia grinned, leaning back a little, but not attempting to get out of his arms, "we get another drink and maybe find somewhere that's not, y'know, the middle of the dance floor."

Peter smiled, "Deal," but snuck one quick kiss before letting her go.

Kraglin was leaning against the bar with his arm around Delia and a drink in his other hand, Peter couldn't help a grin at the other's amused smirk and quick wink as he and Cynia approached.

"Drink?" Delia asked with a giggle in her voice, "Bet you could use one."

Even in the dark room of flashing neon lights, Peter could see Cynia blushing, his ears were burning too, but he couldn't stop grinning.

"Thanks," he said, taking the full glass Kraglin handed him from the bartender.

The First Mate picked his half empty drink from the glowing blue countertop, raising it a bit at Peter, who tapped his glass against the others, meeting Kraglin's eyes and felt his ears blazing. He didn't regret it a bit, though decided sneaking away from the middle of the crowded room to continue was a good idea. Peter missed Cynia's lips, impatiently sipping his drink until an appropriate amount of conversation had passed before he could pull her away, barely listening to any of it.

"He seriously came up here?" he heard Delia scoff and shake her head, hiding a bitter expression behind her drink.

Peter glanced in the direction Delia was looking and his chest tightened with anger seeing the middle-aged Nova officer on the dance floor. Denarian Goch's grin was smug as he sauntered up to a young lady, grabbing her for a quick dance. Her face betrayed discomfort for a moment, but she moved her hips with the officer's bad rhythm for the brief stretch of music he forced her backside into his groin.

"If he comes over, I'll get rid'a him," Peter growled, inhaling sharply at the heel that quickly stomped on his toe, catching an angry scowl from the First Mate.

"No, don't," Cynia shook her head, having turned to Peter right after his and Kraglin's quick exchange, her voice was pleading, "You can't, he's just, it's fine, really, please don't, don't do anything."

Delia shook her head and Peter realized he was outnumbered. He scowled seeing another girl dragged into Denarian Goch's clutches, she too had hidden disgust behind a forced smile as they danced. Peter didn't understand why she was allowing it, why Cynia had obliged him the same uncomfortable grin when the officer had approached them in the bar below, he found himself surprisingly angry at the girls, though not nearly as much as he was at the grotesque middle-age man.

"Cynia, come with me," Delia set her drink down, looping her arm in her sisters and walking to the back of the room.

"Bathroom," Kraglin rolled his eyes at Peter, "Pretty sure there's some universal girl law that they can't go alone."

"Why're they all okay with that asshat?" Peter snapped, jerking his head at the dance floor.

"Don't get involved, Pete, please," Kraglin sighed, "He's a Nova officer, y'don't mess with them without serious consequences."

"But he can mess with whoever he wants?" Peter challenged.

"Pretty much," Kraglin nodded, "It might not be fair, but that's just the way shit is some places. If them girls complained or pushed him off he'd prob'ly make their lives miserable at the academy, not to mention after, when they're in the corps."

"So, using his control over their futures is just,  _okay_?" Peter shook his head incredulously.

"Morally, no," Kraglin shrugged, "but you sayin' somethin' is just gonna make it rougher on Cynia. Just try not to think about him. Okay? We got a couple more hours 'til we gotta get back, so try 'n enjoy it."

Peter nodded to appease the First Mate, but he was hardly convinced.

The girls returned a few minutes later and Delia promptly took Kraglin's drink from his hand, set it on the bar and led him to the dance floor. Peter saw the First Mate's surprised smile before he and Delia disappeared into the crowd of dancers, though the top of Kraglin's head remained visible as he was several inches taller than most.

"Did you wanna dance again?" Peter asked, forcing a grin.

"In a minute," Cynia nodded, a similar expression on her face.

The thudding music did little to cover the awkward silence between them. Peter wasn't sure what to say, he didn't want to ask any more about the academy, finding it impossible not to associate the subject with Denarian Goch, and Cynia's passive response to the situation was surprisingly irritating. He noticed every time he adjusted his footing, stealing a glance at the Nova officer as well as ensuring Kraglin's position in the crowd, that Cynia side stepped, keeping her view of Denarian Goch blocked by Peter. He stopped moving so much.

"I'm sorry," Peter began, unable to help himself, "Why do you let him get away with that?"

"Denarian Goch?" Cynia snuck a glance around Peter towards the dance floor, but quickly returned her gaze to his, sadness in her eyes and the smirk on her lips, "What can I do, Peter?"

"Tell him to pound sand!" Peter insisted, clarifying when she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, "Tell him to stay away from you."

Cynia scoffed lightly, shaking her head at the ground, "It's not that easy, I know it sounds easy, but, it's just, not."

"Why not?" Peter asked more incredulously than he intended.

"Because he's one of the three officers who has a huge vote in my joining the corps when I graduate," Cynia scowled, "The academy's only for a few rotations, I just gotta get through. Plus, most of the girls he's,  _taken interest in_ , have ended up moving up the ranks pretty fast, so, y'know, it's not without benefit."

Peter raised his eyebrows, shocked by her response and unsure what to say, but he noticed his interest in kissing her decrease quickly.

"Look," Cynia continued, "I don't expect you to get it. I wish I could tell him to get lost or,  _pound sand_  as you put it, but it's not that easy, Peter. He could keep me from a job, he could even take it out on Delia, it wouldn't be the first time he's been vindictive to an entire family because of one member."

"I don't get it," Peter sighed relentingly and stumbled over his words, "but it sucks 'n I'm sorry you gotta deal with that. Really, just wish you didn't have to, I'm not, I don't, it's not something I've ever had to, deal with."

"Yeah, well," she shrugged defensively, "it is what it is."

Again, an uncomfortable pause settled between them and Peter took a long drink of his kojaq.

Cynia was beautiful, but there was no confidence in her stance, she seemed constantly concerned about how others around viewed her and that was something Peter didn't understand, having very little shame personally. He wished she wasn't so self-conscious, seeing nothing about the intelligent, gorgeous young woman she shouldn't be proud of, but tried to consider what Cynia and Kraglin had said. It still seemed obnoxiously unfair to him, however, that Denarian Goch's crude behavior had free rein on Nova's aspiring academics.

Peter finished his drink and waved the bartender down for another, grinning at Cynia and hoping they could overlook their previous topic and get back to enjoying each other's company.

"You need another?" he asked.

"I'm okay right now," she gave him a small, tightlipped smile in return.

Peter nodded, but he couldn't take the silence between them anymore, the music pounding in his ears reminded him of every passing moment they weren't speaking, "Hey, I'm, uh, I'm sorry, really. Can, uh, we be okay?"

"Of course," she nodded, her smiled widening a bit, "I know you don't get it, I think it's sweet how you feel, it's just, you're gonna leave and I have to stay."

"I get it," Peter nodded, and he did, "So, uh, you maybe up for another dance in a minute? I think I'm sort'a gettin' the hang of it."

"You're great," she giggled, her hand finding Peter's upper arm and giving his bicep an encouraging squeeze.

He finished his drink quickly as Cynia was nearly finished with hers and Peter felt a bit tipsy following her out to the dance floor. Kraglin and Delia were very close, their torsos pressed together and kept their eyes only on each other's, oblivious to the younger couple joining a few feet away.

When Cynia's perky behind nestled against his groin again, Peter felt soaring excitement mixed with a bit of concern, hoping she didn't feel the eagerness he was trying extremely hard to stifle. However, staying in rhythm with Cynia's swaying hips while trying to keep his  _enthusiasm_  from pressing solidly against his pants, and subsequently her tight skirt, was a challenge. One reflexive throb he was sure didn't go unnoticed, but Cynia grabbed his hand the next moment and wrapped his arm around her small waist, encouraging him to pull her closer.

Peter didn't want her to ever stop dancing with him, nuzzling his face into her neck for a better whiff of her sweet scent, earning a happy giggle from the young woman when he kissed her collarbone. A shiver trickled down his back when Cynia's hand reached the base of his neck, scratching her thin fingers gently through his short hair and pulling his face closer to the soft skin of her exposed shoulder. If he could live off her intoxicating smell and glistening skin he would never move his lips from the sensitive spot he'd found behind her ear.

A solid tap on his shoulder was more than unwelcome, and, when Peter turned to tell whoever it was to get lost, his eyes instinctually narrowed on Denarian Goch.

"Mind if I cut in?" the Nova officer grinned smugly and Peter felt Cynia's fingers curl tightly into his pants just above his knee, he hated the man for causing that fear.

"Yeah, actually," Peter scoffed.

Denarian Goch's eyebrows raised in brief surprise before he scowled at the young man, Cynia's fist squeezed tighter in the fabric of his pants.

"Excuse me, son-" the older man began.

"I'm not y'r'son," Peter snapped.

"Thank all the gods for that," Denarian Goch said bitterly, "As a rank of respect in Nova Corps, I have the right to request a dance from our up and coming generations. You, see,  _boy,_  we have cultural traditions here you are obviously unaware of-"

"Oh, I've been watchin' your cultural tradition since we got here," Peter growled, managing to keep his face neutral while Cynia pinched his leg hard, admittedly the alcohol had more to do with those words than his rational brain had, but the Denarian was making his blood boil.

"Peter," Cynia breathed, forcing a grin at him as she shifted her gaze to the Nova officer, "it's fine, get another drink, I'll be right there."

His eyes bulged and Peter felt hot anger rush through him. He didn't mean to, but he scowled at Cynia too before leaving her with Denarian Goch and returning to the bar.

Kraglin and Delia were in the dark corner with their lips attached and the young woman's hand had disappeared under the First Mate's shirt, grabbing eagerly at his lower back. When they came up for air a few moments later, Kraglin noticed Peter leaning against the bar with a fresh kojaq, glowering towards the dance floor.

"Y'okay?" he asked with a tone that said he knew Peter wasn't remotely okay.

"That mother-," Peter growled, interrupting his own cuss to gulp his drink again.

Kraglin's eyes followed Peter's scowl and he sighed, "Pete, relax, its one dance."

"I just don't get why she said okay," he grumbled.

"I told ya," Kraglin shrugged, "it ain't her fault."

"There was a girl who did," Delia interjected and both boys turned their full attention to her, "she told Denarian Goch to get lost until she had to be rude to get him to go away."

"What happened?" Peter asked.

"She's not in the corps, that's for sure," Delia scoffed, shaking her head, "Not sure where she went, she was a couple years older than Rhomman so I never knew her, but the story never went away."

"He didn't, like,  _get rid of her_ , did he?" Peter grimaced.

"Doubt it," Cynia chuckled lightly, "but he definitely made her life hard enough that it wasn't worth stayin' on the track she was on, it never would've stopped."

Peter considered this information, his head buzzing with alcohol made it all the more difficult, but he understood Cynia, Kraglin and Delia had to have a point. He still thought it was unfair, but was preparing a deep, calming breath despite his feelings. The scene his eyes caught on the dance floor, however, halted Peter's attempt to sedate his morals.

Cynia wasn't nearly as close to Denarian Goch as she had been to Peter, obviously trying to maintain some distance between them, but the Nova officer was unsatisfied with the gap. Denarian Goch's large hand reached Cynia's skirt and her wince was clear across the room as he squeezed the curve of her bottom, dragging the girl into his shifting hips.

Peter barely registered Kraglin's hand firmly on his shoulder before he brushed it off on his way towards the pair. Blood pounded in his ears, drowning out even the blaring music, and he made no apologizes to the few dancers he pushed out of his way to get to where Denarian Goch was holding Cynia against her will. She saw him first, her sad, beautiful eyes widening with concern as Peter stalked closer, his focus entirely on the Nova officer, who glanced up from Cynia's bosom too late.

His closed fist connected with Denarian Goch's jaw so hard Peter thought he felt something crack, unsure if it was the officer's face or his hand, pulling Cynia away with his other in the follow-through momentum from the punch. Denarian Goch stumbled backwards, his hand protectively cupping his face, but set his enraged eyes on Peter after a very brief moment.

"You little heathen!" the man spit, actually spit because his mouth was pooling with blood.

"Better than a dirty, old man!" Peter barked, resisting Cynia's insistent tugging to leave the situation.

"You have assaulted a Nova officer!" he was breathing heavily and everyone around them had backed away significantly, "A  _fourth rank denarian_  and-"

"I don't give a shit what you are," Peter growled, "You assault her, I assault you."

"Assault her?" Denarian Goch tried to laugh meanly, but grimaced and returned his hand to his chin, "I believe your mind is playing tricks on you poor boy, I've done nothing of the kind. I'm sure Miss Cynia here would agree."

Cynia clearly didn't appreciate the attention focused on her suddenly, but dipped her gaze to the floor and shook her head very slightly. Peter's stomach twisted with rage and his thoughts swirled with alcohol.

"Screw it," he muttered just before lunging at the officer, taking him to the ground while his fists found every inch of the man's face.

Peter was only focused on forcing more blood to spill from Denarian Goch, oblivious to the hands grabbing around him, attempting to drag him off the man who was trying to curl into a defensive ball.

"PETER!" Kraglin's voice broke through his delirium just enough for Peter to pause and allow the First Mate to haul him to his feet.

He was shaking against Kraglin's side, his focus still on Denarian Goch as he panted, but an unfamiliar grasp tore him from the First Mate. Peter found his knees, chest and cheek slammed against the floor and a stabbing pain sunk into his back, keeping him firmly in place as his arms were twisted behind him, his wrists bound together in a moment.

"Hey, c'mon," he heard Kraglin pleading, but couldn't turn his head to see him, "we were havin' a good time, the denarian was just gettin' friendly 'n the kid lost his head. Guys, c'mon, we're leavin', swear, you won't see us again!"

"What's your name?" Peter heard a deep voice and knew it was directed at him, but had no intentions of answering.

"Denarian Goch says it's Peter," another voice commented.

"Stop, please," Cynia was crying, Peter's stomach twisted hearing her cry.

"What's his cognomen?" the first man asked, Peter still couldn't see more than boots as his right eye was squeezed shut, shoved against the hard floor.

"He ain't got one," Kraglin said and Peter smirked.

"Y'wanna join him, son?" the man growled.

"On what charges?" Kraglin challenged.

"Connection, suspicion," the man scoffed, "maybe I just don't like the look y'r'givin' me. Pick one. Now, what's his  _full_  name?"

"Quill," Peter grunted, breathing easier when the pain in his back disappeared, Kraglin's growl didn't escape his ears, but he couldn't let the First Mate get into the same situation.

"See?" the man chuckled lightly, "You boys can be reasonable," Peter felt himself pulled awkwardly to his feet by a strong grip under his arms, "Peter Quill, you are under arrest by the Nova Corps for the assault of Denarian Goch, ranking Nova officer and Nova Academy administrator. Do you have any questions before being confined in Nova Corps's short hold?"

"Yeah," Peter craned his neck, getting a glimpse of the tall corpsman and his severe expression, "How many more  _Nova's_  can you squeeze into that sentence?"

He tried to stifle a pained hiss when the corpsman wrenched his wrists upward, holding them to the middle of his back for a few moments. Peter smiled, appreciating the rise he was able to get out of the man, but it disappeared when he turned and caught Kraglin's seething scowl. The First Mate was more than angry, he was scared. He only barely saw Cynia sobbing into her sister's shoulder while Delia stroked her hair.

The music was still pumping, but no one was dancing, the entire room watched as the corpsman dragged Peter towards the stairs, his partner already descending with Denarian Goch leaning dramatically on him. His adrenaline was fading and Peter's stomach lurched as he understood just how screwed he was. Not to mention when Yondu found out.

* * *

Peter sat on a hard bench in the steel cell, elbows on his knees and his head hanging below his shoulders, waiting. He'd been waiting a while already, at least it seemed like he had. From the cop shows he could remember watching with his Grandpa, Peter had a vague sense of the United States judicial system, but he doubted a public defender would be walking through the door anytime soon, or that he would even be allowed an opportunity to defend himself. The corpsmen hadn't wanted to hear anything against Denarian Goch, smacking Peter hard on the back of his head when he'd accused the officer of perversion.

Peter sighed, running his hands roughly over his freshly cut hair, "Yondu's gonna kill me," he mumbled aloud, then considered the Nova Corps might beat the Captain to it.

The door slid open and he jumped a bit at the sudden action, pushing to his feet and setting them defensively. A blonde woman with harsh features entered in the same style of uniform as Denarian Goch, followed by two corpsmen, one Peter recognized as Delia and Cynia's brother, Rhomman Dey. Neither of the young men behind the officer made eye contact with Peter, he was only interested in Corpsmen Dey, hoping for a glimmer of understanding to Peter's actions, though doubted the young corpsmen could have much effect even if he had heard what happened and agreed with the assault on Denarian Goch.

"Peter Quill?" the woman stepped forward, emotion void in her expression.

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, figuring good manners couldn't hurt his case.

"I am Centurion Forrest," she said pointedly, "You assaulted one of Nova's denarian officers."

"Yes, ma'am, uh, centurion," Peter stumbled, "I did, it was, uh, bad reaction, I didn't think."

"And what exactly were you reacting to?" she asked, her eyes seemed to almost soften as she peered at him harder.

"Uh," Peter hadn't expected this, but had nothing to lose by telling the truth, actively keeping his eyes from fleeting to Corpsman Dey as he continued, "I was, upset by the way I saw him dancing with some girls, mostly one girl, but there were others he was doin' it to."

"Doing what?" Centurion Forrest raised a single eyebrow, making Peter's spine shiver.

Peter sighed, chancing a quick look at Corpsman Dey, who's eyes were slits while his nostrils flared, but forced himself to look directly at the stern woman and continue, "Denarian Goch was, making girls dance with him, he grabbed Cynia's," pausing at the word choice he had to make and completely unsure of a respectful term that wouldn't cause her older brother to fly across the room, "lower, back _side_."

"He grabbed her ass?" Centurion Forrest asked bluntly and Peter felt heat flare from the top of his skull to his shoulders, he didn't dare look, but an uncomfortable throat clear near the door echoed in the empty cell.

"Yes, ma'am," Peter nodded, deciding against correcting himself and simply grimaced apologetically.

She jerked her head down curtly and turned to the corpsmen while striding out of the room, "Take him to conference two."

Centurion Forrest was gone faster than Peter blinked, tensing up as the corpsmen neared him, keeping his eyes on Rhomman specifically. Neither grabbed him, however, and stopped several feet short, gesturing for him to follow them without binding his hands. Peter was confused, but not about to argue, leaving the cell behind the Nova corpsmen and following them down the same hallway he'd been dragged through earlier.

"Uh, Corpsmen Dey," Peter tried, earning a grunt from the curly haired young man, "I'm sorry your sister got involved in this, I know Cynia was really upset, I didn't mean to do that."

He caught a grin before the corpsman stifled it, but Rhomman turned his head a bit as they walked, "You assaulted a denarian and you're worried you upset my sister?" he chuckled, "Between us, and I know Bery here feels the same, I wish I could've done what you did. Must've felt good."

"It did," Peter admitted, "So, uh, you all know?"

"Badly kept secret," Corpsman Dey grumbled, "But I didn't know Cynia was,  _on his radar,_  not 'til today."

"So, uh," Peter noticed they were leaving the steel wall hallway into a warmer, well decorated part of the Nova Corps headquarters, "Where are we goin'?"

"Conference room," Corpsman Bery said quickly.

"Oookay," Peter continued looking around the tall hallway, passing one intricately carved door after another, portraits lining the walls between.

At the end of the hall, the second to last door opened as they approached and another corpsman jerked his head into the room. Peter's stomach dropped as he entered, haven't not wanted to run so badly the entire walk through the hallway until faced with the extremely unforgiving expression Yondu gave him, but his boots were frozen to the floor.

"C'mon, kid," Corpsman Dey nudged him gently on the shoulder towards the seat between Yondu and Kraglin, the First Mate was pale.

Yondu pulled the empty chair out further and offered a snide, angry smile, "Have a seat, Pete."

The order was nonnegotiable and his feet instinctively moved towards the Captain, his backside tingling with anticipation, but there was also a chance Yondu would just kill him if he was released instead of wasting his time with a whipping. Maybe both.

Centurion Forrest entered as Peter was lowering into his chair, lurched quickly to his feet by a rough blue hand under his arm. Kraglin jumped to his feet as well and the Centurion almost looked pleased at the display of respect.

"I must say," she began, the corpsmen filtering out and shutting the door before she continued, "I was not expecting to hear what I did today. I've known of Denarian Goch's disgusting actions for as long as anyone, I will not detail the tirades I've had in an attempt to solve the problem, but, today, you, young man exposed him so publicly he cannot refute the allegations."

Peter stared at her, slowly looking at Kraglin, who's color had slightly returned, his eyebrows knitted in confusion, before turning to Yondu, who looked exactly the same as he had, and Peter gulped.

"So, what's happening?" Peter asked, "Am I goin' to Klyn?"

The centurion's expression finally broke into a quick laugh with a lingering smile as she shook her head, "No, you are all going to get in your ship and leave Xandar for a long time, long enough at least to let your involvement blow over and let Denarian Goch lick his wounds."

"He's still in Nova?" Peter scowled, but grimaced when he was elbowed on either side, harder on Yondu's.

Centurion Forrest, however, sighed understandingly, "Now that the public, as well as more ranking members are aware and cautious of his behavior, at least he won't have as ample of opportunities and reign as he has, but yes, he will still hold his rank."

"Why?" Peter scoffed.

"Boy," Yondu growled, "bite y'r'fool tongue."

"Because," she continued with a sad grin, "that's how it is, but you made an impact today, the first leaf has to fall before the rest."

He said nothing else, just nodding with feigned understanding.

"Are we free to go, Centurion Forrest?" Yondu asked.

"Yes," she nodded, turning to the door, but pausing before it opened and looking again to Yondu, "And, I must say, you're not like any Ravager I've ever met Captain Udonta. These are good boys, mostly at least. And that one," she smirked and pointed a well-manicured finger at Kraglin, "well Obfonteri, you know where you were headed."

Kraglin's ears were nearly purple he blushed so badly, but nodded and managed a weak, "Yeah, Centurion Forrest, no where good."

"Glad to see you both have someone watchin' out," she offered a very tiny smile to the Captain and left the room, the door remaining open after she disappeared.

"Let's go," Yondu growled, his coat flapping as he quickly stalked from the room and the boys scurried after him, slowing in the hallway full of corpsmen and forcing their shoulders back as they settled into confident strides.

Peter's mind was exploding with questions, but he knew they would all have to wait. Then he remembered Yondu was going to kill him and wondered if he could at least find out what the hell happened first. Kraglin kept his eyes ahead and down, Peter couldn't tell if he was actively ignoring the wide-eyed expression he was shooting the First Mate's way or if Krgalin was in a trance of terror.

"Kraglin," Yondu barked and the First Mate snapped his head up, "Where's my deposit money?"

"Oh, uh, h-here, Captain, sir," Kraglin quickened his step forward, since Yondu didn't bother to stop pounding towards the massive parking lot outside the city, shoving the units at the Captain with shaky hands.

Yondu said nothing, he didn't even bother to count it before slipping them into his pocket and Peter though how easy it would've been if Kraglin had let him snag a few earlier. That didn't matter anymore, Yondu was going to kill him.

The Eclector was sitting in a spot on the flat surface, Peter saw the massive ship across the lot, sighing at the distance, but trudged behind the Captain and First Mate. The sight of the spacecraft in the pale light of dusk reminded Peter they were leaving, the terribly wonderful day was over, and he was lucky to be getting off the planet, but wished like hell he'd had a chance to say good-bye to Cynia.

Yondu didn't direct them elsewhere when they reached the Eclector and the boys shared several nervous glances while being led to the Captain's quarters. Most of the Ravagers they passed seemed confused, but a few snickered and made slapping gestures behind the Captain's back as they walked. Peter wasn't fazed, but Kraglin clearly wanted to melt into the floor.

Yondu pushed into his private room, leaving the door wide open and Peter closed it quietly after following Kraglin over the threshold. Yondu stripped his jacket with his back to them, walking towards his bed while they stayed planted near the door.

"Have a seat, boys," he said without turning to see if they did, but Kraglin hurried around the sofa while Peter hopped over the back of it, plopping next to each other on the cushions.

A few moments later, Yondu returned with his shirt untucked from his pants and a drink in his hand, settling with a grunt onto the armchair across from the boys. Peter somehow felt even sicker when Yondu grinned at him, raising his drink in the air and taking a sip.

"Yondu?" Peter couldn't take the lingering silence anymore and leaned away from the First Mate's pointy elbow trying to stab his sore side.

"Only you, Pete," Yondu chuckled.

"Me? I?" Peter scrunched his forehead at the Captain, "Are you gonna kill me or just beat me 'til I wish I was dead?"

Yondu's eyebrows raised with shock, "Does it gotta be one'r the other? What if I just congratulate you two on dumb luck and admit this is the  _one_  time you flyin' off the handle may've been a good thing."

"Good, congratulate us, lucky what, do what now?" Peter stammered, Kraglin just stared with his mouth hanging open.

Yondu laughed and took another drink, "I ever tell you boys how the slaves got free on Praxius?" they shook their heads in unison, "Longer ago than I've been around, but legends never die. Slavery use t'be one'a the most common and lucrative trades in every galaxy, all of 'em, it was accepted, just normal. Harohug Ogord, Stakar's grandfather, grew up under Rigellian control, but his master taught him a lot, the stories I heard he treated Ogord more like family than property. Dangerous thing to do, especially way back then. Other Praxians didn't like that, 'n they killed Ogord's master, tryin' to take him 'n the other slaves for themselves."

"What happened?" Peter breathed, his elbows on his knees, Kraglin matching his enthusiasm leaning forward on the couch.

"Harohug killed 'em," Yondu smirked, "laid a blockade from his master's house, pickin' off any who tried to attack 'n, well, when the last of the Praxian slavers were alone they ran. Ogord put his old master to rest, strapped every weapon he could to himself and he 'n the small group of other slaves ruthlessly murdered the remaining Praxian slave owners, freein' anyone that was still breathin'. He invited any of 'em to come with him that wanted to do the same elsewhere, most of 'em went, and, for the next ninety-three cycles, that's what they did. One planet, one siege, one bloody, slave post massacre after another. Only ones they couldn't take were the Kree. Not till Stakar came around," Yondu's smile was sad and lost in a memory, but he brought his gaze back to the boys, "Harohug 'n his crew didn't defeat one planet of slave traders after another alone, boys, what they did was wake people up, step in sayin' it ain't right 'n suddenly the masses that always accepted the trade as just a part of the higher classes livin', stood up against it. The slavers were always outnumbered, but they did a good job of making folks think they weren't, till somebody stood up."

Peter stared at Yondu for a moment, considering what he'd said, and turned to Kraglin, who's mouth was pulled into a taught, thin line as he stared at the floor between his feet.

"So, with that Denarian Goch guy, 'n the girls," Peter let his words trail off, hoping the Captain would continue explaining.

"Nova may tried t'sweep it under the rug inside the corps for a while," Yondu smirked, "but when a group'a outsiders watches a gallant, young hero dragged away in cuffs for defendin' a pretty girl, well that don't get let go too quick."

Peter grinned, a swell of pride expanding in his chest. Kraglin's focus was still firmly on the floor.

"Denarian Goch got exposed for what he is to the citizens of Xandar that didn't know," Yondu continued, "Didn't hurt that the pretty, little thing you was all over has a retired denarian rank five for a daddy, he weren't too happy hearin' what happened."

"Was Cynia okay?" Peter asked.

"Little shook up," Yondu shrugged, "but she'll be fine. Goch ain't gonna be botherin' her anymore."

"But he's still in the corps," Peter grumbled.

"Yeah, well," Yondu sighed, "takes a lot t'tear a man like him down from his pedestal, but I bet his life ain't gonna be what he used t'enjoy," he chuckled sinisterly, "Folks are gonna comment every time he takes a shit."

Peter nodded slowly at the idea, hoping the scuzzy man would soon find himself wishing he had been extradited.

"So," Peter grimaced at the Captain, "I'm not in trouble?"

"Y'should be," Yondu scoffed, taking a drink and setting it on the table before leaning forward on his knees, "No, y'r'not in trouble. Sometimes doin' somethin' stupid for the right reasons works out, I ain't gonna punish you for that, 'cause another time y'might not get so lucky 'n that'll be a punishment in itself."

"That's, uh, comforting," Peter muttered, "thanks, Yondu."

"Y'okay there, Kraglin?" Yondu asked and the First Mate's head snapped up.

"Yes, sir," he said too quickly.

"You boys hit the showers 'n git t'bed," Yondu jerked his head at the door.

Kraglin was pulling it open before Peter had even rounded the sofa and quickened his step in the hallway, nearly jogging to catch up to the First Mate.

"Hey," Peter put a hand on Kraglin's arm, but it was immediately shrugged off, "What the hell, man?"

Kraglin took a deep breath, his eyes closed, "Sorry, just, I'm sorry, okay."

"For what?" Peter scrunched his eyebrows.

"I, I didn't do nothin'," Kraglin growled, "and I tried t'keep you from doin' what y'did."

"Well, that's not," Peter was surprised at the admission, stammering through his response, "Kraglin, y'can't blame y'rself for that, I mean, I shouldn't've, it just worked out y'know."

"Yeah, sure," Kraglin shrugged with defeat, turning towards his bedroom.

Peter watched him walk away for a moment, but, as the door was nearly closed, took two long strides, pushing into the room and slamming the door in its frame.

"Peter!" Kraglin snapped, whipping around at the bang.

"You're pissin' me off!" Peter yelled, "What're you so mad at y'rself for?! The last thing  _you_  of all people needed to do was get attention from the Nova Corps, don't think I didn't notice Centurion Forrest recognizin' you! You're mad at y'rself for keepin' a level head?"

"I should'a done somethin'!" Kraglin argued, "You did! Why didn't I?"

"Cause y'r'smarter than me," Peter offered with an encouraging smirk.

"Naw," Kraglin shook his head, "Just not as brave."

"Wasn't bravery," Peter chuckled, "I just saw red, hell, I was on top'a Goch before I even knew what I was doin'."

"Worked out though," Kraglin shrugged.

"Who'd'a thought," Peter grinned, earning a small upturn in the corner of the First Mate's lips.

"You're a leader, Pete," Kraglin nodded proudly at him.

"Maybe someday," he scoffed lightly.

"Naw, y'are," Kraglin clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder, steering him towards his bedroom door and pulling it open with his other hand, "But y'smell like a bar 'n a prison."

Peter lifted an arm, sniffing himself and overdramatizing his sour expression, "Y'r'not wrong."

Kraglin shut his door as Peter walked down the hall towards the showers. They'd be above the atmosphere probably before he would wake up the next day, leaving Xandar for an undetermined amount of time before their eventual next stop. He wished he could've said good-bye to Cynia, but more he hoped she really would be free from the unwanted advances of Denarian Goch. Now that her brother knew, their father knew, but more importantly, the citizens knew, Peter anticipated the perverted man would be subjected to judgement and ridicule for the rest of his life.

He went to bed that night thinking of the story Yondu had told him, and the groups he'd learned of years ago in school who throughout history had changed the perception of masses to alter long-standing, unfair precedents.

**Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!**


	28. Brothers Building Blaster Boots

_**New rule to keep as much of my sanity as I have left- I'm only taking prompts from reviewers who have had the decency to actually comment their thoughts on this story, mostly because its unbelievably infuriating to have someone ask for something and then get radio silence when I produce- my job is pretty much giving people information and then having them ignore me, I'm not doing it here, I don't get paid for this, at least work neglect and customer abuse pays my mortgage. So, basically, those who have commented to ask for a prompt but never reviewed the chapter for the prompt they requested ruined it..** _

_**I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad and the few reviewers I have who are great about commenting, don't think you're included and feel free to give me ALL your ideas.** _

_**Not sure how many more chapters I'm going to go before I write the end because I seriously think I'm writing it for a dozen people between two sites and well if that's not disheartening I don't know what is.** _

**_On that extremely upbeat note... happy reading, I look forward to hearing what my seven reviewers think!_ **

Peter had nearly perfected his balance on the hoverboard and moved on to practicing his cornering skills, which needed a lot of work. Braking, also wasn't his forte.

"Peter," Kraglin growled, grabbing the backs of his knees where the board had hit, causing the teenager to tumble to the floor, "I swear you hit me with that damn thing one more time I'm gonna break it 'n make you eat the motors!"

"Sorry, Krag," Peter grimaced, grabbing the board before Kraglin could snatch it and took a few steps away from the First Mate, "I'm tryin' to get good at it, think it could be useful on a job or somethin'."

Kraglin went to scoff, but stopped and stared thoughtfully at Peter and the board cradled in his arms, nodding slowly.

"Give it here," Kraglin held out a hand and Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "I just wanna see it, c'mon."

Begrudgingly, Peter handed the hoverboard to Kraglin and watched as the First Mate turned it upside down to examine the tiny blaster motors underneath. He was half convinced Kraglin would just walk away with his rare source of entertainment, considering lately he'd seemed to be  _trying_  to stifle Peter's amusement.

"What if you didn't have to worry about keepin' your feet on this?" Kraglin asked, keeping his eyes on the contraption as he snapped a cover off the bottom, exposing the internal components.

"Like what?" Peter was confused.

"Like, what if these blasters were, let's say, attached to your boots?" Kraglin looked up with a smirk Peter knew meant the First Mate had an idea and he smiled excitedly.

"Blaster boots?" Peter nodded quickly, "Yeah, let's do that! Can we do that?"

"I think," Kraglin's long fingers picked through the wires as he studied the interior workings of the hoverboard, "yeah, I think maybe we can. Need the tools in the hangar-"

"Let's go!" Peter bolted down the hall, but skidded to halt at Kraglin's call.

"Hold on! I ain't got time right now," Kraglin chuckled, "Got somethin' to check on for Capt'n, then we can- hey, wait- Ain't you s'posed t'be mappin' the course to the next job?"

"It'll take me two minutes," Peter sighed.

"Good, y'got 'em," Kraglin held the board at his side, "Get it done."

"Dude, I will," Peter rolled his eyes.

"Scuse me?" the First Mate growled and Peter's ears burned.

"Sorry, Kraglin, I'll get it done," he forced himself not to mutter the halfhearted apology.

"Now," Kraglin demanded and Peter nodded, taking off towards the command room.

"Be nice if you could dislodge y'rself from my ass," Peter grumbled quietly when he was out of earshot.

Kraglin had been riding him for days and he was getting really sick of it. Yondu had put the First Mate in charge of delegating tri-cycle chores to the crew, cleaning parts of the ship that didn't see much maintenance normally, but Kraglin had stuck Peter with one of the worst jobs, checking and dusting the internal components of the command room control console. The teenager couldn't imagine anything more tedious and said as much to the First Mate, in front of the rest of the crew.

"Well, that's y'r'job, Pete," Kraglin had growled, "Don't half ass it either."

"Bullshit," Peter had mumbled, but loud enough.

A hushed growl had filtered through the crew as Kraglin's face flushed, but he didn't respond and turned to Scrote with an assignment. He was interrupted quickly though.

"You don't talk t'my First Mate like that, boy!" Peter hadn't even realized Yondu was in the mess hall and jumped at the angry bark, then the Captain's narrow, red eyes focused on Kraglin, "And don't you dare let him!"

"Yes, sir," Kraglin's voice had cracked a little as he nodded.

"Yes, sir," Peter had muttered, "I'm sorry."

And then Yondu made the worst proclamation he could have, especially in front of the entire crew, "Watch y'r'attitude with him, he can beat'cha too."

Peter's blood had run cold and a quick glance at the First Mate confirmed this was news to him too, a few crew members snickering hadn't escaped his noticed either.

He and Kraglin hadn't talked about it, Peter had just done his job silently and avoided the First Mate for the rest of the day. It had been a few days since the awkward confrontation and Peter hadn't been trying to avoid Kraglin, though he'd been warier of the respect he showed the higher-ranking Ravager. He often forgot Kraglin was the First Mate with how similarly the Captain treated them, but it wasn't a status any other member of the crew shared and had developed a bit of entitlement in the teenager.

Peter was getting older, however, and Yondu had been more than insistent about Kraglin treating him like every other member of the crew. Although this message was often confused by the Captain's own obvious favoritism towards Peter, not even Kraglin would dare to try and get away with some of the things Peter muttered to Yondu. Sometimes the Captain still pretended he hadn't heard, but, to Peter's displeasure, lately he'd taken to cuffing Peter on the side of the head as almost routine. Yondu gave an order, Peter grumbled, Yondu smacked him and the process would repeat on the next command.

"Y'know what y'r'issue is, kid?" the Captain had growled after smacking Peter twice for talking back, "Y'don't learn."

Peter couldn't disagree, but he also couldn't help the snarky comments that flew out of his mouth unfiltered. Truthfully, he really didn't try  _that_  hard, and sometimes the stifled chuckles he heard from the crew were worth the momentary burn on his ear.

The command room was empty when he walked in, the control console gleaming from its recent polish and Peter offered the inanimate machinery a rude hand gesture. Removing and reattaching all of the access panels had been the worst part, no, meticulously cleaning the mess of wires and internal connector ports was worse, but generally the entire assignment had been a tedious pain that left him with a literal ache in his neck from the hours of stooping and craning. Peter had felt better the next day, but still rubbed his neck and shoulders whenever Kraglin passed him, until the First Mate shoved a couple large pills in Peter's hand with the instruction to wait until he was going to bed to take them. His dreams had been extremely vivid and very odd that night.

He plopped into the Captain's chair and pulled the navigation module towards himself, sighing heavily as he did and jamming the holographic screen with his finger. Okay, maybe it took him five minutes, but only because Yondu insisted on landing on a certain part of Rajak and Peter had to coordinate a sling shot around one of its moons. He had just stored his work and was about to close the navigation program when Yondu's heavy steps echoed into the room.

"What'cha doin' there, boy?" he asked.

"Checkin' the map to Rajak," Peter wasn't about to admit he'd only just finished the project.

"Made sure we're comin' in where I showed ya?" Yondu raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, swatting at the screen so it spun towards the Captain and spread his hands to expand the hologram in the air between them, "We're comin' in on the other side and then I've got us routing around the upper hemisphere's moon, using the gravity to pull us in line to land," he squeezed his fingers to zoom in on the target landing zone, "right here, or within a couple hundred feet."

Yondu nodded slowly before giving Peter a proud grin, "How long this take you?"

"Five minutes," Peter shrugged.

"Gettin' better," Yondu scoffed lightly, "Get everything Kraglin told ya to do done?"

"Yes, sir," Peter made sure he enunciated instead of grumbling bitterly or he might have to repeat himself, "We've got a project in the hangar though."

"What project?" Yondu narrowed his eyes.

"Nothin'," Peter shrugged, "just tryin' to build somethin'."

"Don't take my ship apart," the Captain said dryly as he sat in his chair and closed the navigation program, "And Peter?"

The teen held in a sigh and turned in the entrance to the command room, "Yeah?"

"Kraglin doesn't like bein' hard on ya," Yondu said firmly, "but insubordination tends to spread. I won't have my crew thinkin' they can disrespect my First Mate 'cause you two are buddies 'n you don't like when he tells ya what to do. Y'understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, sliding his back foot anxiously towards the hallway.

"Alright git," as soon as the Captain jerked his head with permission to leave Peter bolted from the command room.

Kraglin was in the hangar when Peter jogged in and met him at their usual workbench, the one nearest the storage room of miscellaneous parts as well as around the corner from the entrance, allowing the boys to hear someone coming before they (and whatever they were creating) were in sight. This alone had saved them several awkward conversations with the Captain, sure he'd question some of the contraptions Kraglin and Peter invented, which is why they had a large, empty drawer ready to stash their projects from view.

"Pete y'r'room's a mess," Kraglin commented while concentrating on removing the fastenings from the underside of the hoverboard.

"What're you doin' in my room?" Peter scowled.

"You don't need that anymore do ya?" Kraglin nodded at the worn strap of leather on the table.

Peter grinned picking up his first holster belt, built for a Grund, but had fit him perfectly his first couple of years on the Eclector, a gift from Yondu after Peter's first stop on Xandar and completing the kid's Ravager outfit. Somewhere in the piles of crap in his room was Peter's first Ravager jacket, the one he was currently wearing had been Kraglin's, but was increasingly tighter in the shoulders. The last time they'd visited the tailor, Aparski, Peter had no less than begged for a new jacket, but Yondu insisted he only needed pants, though he at least sprang for the ones with built in blaster holsters and got him a few pairs to grow into.

"No, hasn't fit in years," Peter tossed the belt back on the workbench, "What's y'r'plan?"

"Here," Kraglin nodded to his other side and Peter scooted around him to see the design Kraglin had roughly sketched, "Gotta measure your boots, but I think that should be enough for a couple straps."

The design looked simple enough, the detached blaster cylinders from the hoverboard motor would be strapped around his heels, secured with the leather strap from the old holster belt. It reminded Peter of cowboy spurs, but much cooler cowboy spurs that would let him fly.

"How am I gonna turn 'em on?" Peter asked, picking up the motor Kraglin had removed from the board and turning it in his hands.

"We're gonna turn the motion detection control into a remote," Kraglin handed Peter a screwdriver, "Start takin' that apart, we just need the little turbine that powers it."

Peter set to work removing the covers and disconnecting the unnecessary electrical components, for a few minutes they worked in silence.

"Hey, Pete," Kraglin got his attention, staring at the teen earnestly, "we okay?"

"Yeah, Krag," Peter scoffed, "Course. Why?"

Kraglin shrugged, "Y'just seem kinda mad at me since the other day."

"Yeah, well," Peter's ears burned and he grimaced apologetically, "I should've just listened to you. I'm, uh, really gonna try 'n not argue with ya, at least in front'a the crew."

Kraglin expelled a short laugh, "I'd appreciate it."

"Long as y'don't make me clean the bathrooms," Peter smirked.

"Next time y'call my orders  _bullshit_  I might," Kraglin chuckled, knocking Peter with his shoulder.

Between the two of them it didn't take long to strip the motors of the necessary pieces and Peter paid close attention to Kraglin's instructions as the First Mate started to lay out the set up for reassembling them. Since they were building a pair, Peter got to watch and repeat Kraglin's process on his own side, cutting the time significantly before they finished.

"Okay," Kraglin tugged the straps he'd attached to the cylinder blaster motors, ensuring they were secure, and Peter did the same, "You wanna do the honors?"

"Hell yeah," Peter nodded, plopping on the ground instantly and strapping the one already in his hand to his right boot, doing the same on his left after taking the device from Kraglin.

"Just be careful, alright?" Kraglin said warily, "We can always increase the power if we need to, just don't kill y'rself on the first run."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter grumbled sarcastically, grinning goofily at the First Mate's scowl while hopping to his feet and kicking them a little, satisfied when the blasters hardly shifted from where they were strapped on his ankles.

"Here," Kraglin handed him a small box with wires protruding from all sides, "we'll have to make this look better, but let's just see if it works. Squeeze it like-"

"Woah, shit!" Peter laughed as he was propelled several feet in the air, falling into a fit of amusement as he landed just as quickly on his behind.

"How do we still not have a helmet around here?" Kraglin sighed, "Easy this time. Okay?"

Peter squeezed the flat sides of the motion detector module with much less force and the blasters strapped to his ankles pushed him off the floor again, slower and with more control this time. He squeezed a little more, unable to help a maniacal laugh as Kraglin backed away from the fire under Peter's feet that was now even with the First Mate's head. Gently, he released the pressure and found himself floating to the floor.

"Dude!" Peter exclaimed, "These are awesome!"

"Need some work," Kraglin commented, gesturing for Peter to take them off.

"They're perfect," Peter argued, squeezing the stripped, motion module again and flying even higher towards the hangar ceiling.

"Pete!" Kraglin barked

"One more minute, man, please!" Peter laughed, spinning in the air, though continued three, full rotations passed his intentions because he didn't know how to stop.

"Whatever," Kraglin scoffed, "just whenever you notice your boots are meltin' I guess."

"What?" the moment Peter looked down he felt his feet burning, "Shit, shit, shit," Peter started plummeting to the ground, having released his squeezing fingers, and quickly applied pressure to the flat sides of the box again, lurching upwards and scorching his heels, "Shit!"

Kraglin was doubled over, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes, bursting out in another bout of laughter when he looked at Peter, flat on his ass after a series of sudden jumps and short lived free falls to the ground.

"Shut up," Peter grumbled, hissing as he pulled his hands away from the roasting soles of his boots, hurrying to kick or pull them off his blistering feet.

"Y'okay?" Kraglin asked, catching his breath.

"Yeah," Peter nodded, lifting one of his boots by the top of the shaft and examining the melted bottom, "Pretty sure my boots are toast though."

"I got an extra pair you can have," Kraglin shrugged.

"Cool," Peter nodded appreciatively, "these are too small anyway."

Kraglin chuckled, "Good, they're perfect for practice then. Let 'em cool down 'n then I wanna try lowerin' those motors a bit, but we might need to add a layer of ignifuge to keep your boots from, well, doin'  _that_. I'm thinkin' we could make the motion control smaller, maybe hide it in your sleeve so you can just," Kraglin made a fist and Peter nodded his understanding, "I don't know, we'll play with it."

"No, that's awesome," Peter smiled, "Thanks, Kraglin."

"Course, Pete," Kraglin said routinely, picking the boots off the floor and tossing them on his workbench.

"No, really," Peter said, "I appreciate it, you always do cool stuff for me. I'm sorry I give you such a hard time, sometimes."

Kraglin's eyes widened with genuine surprise and he stammered a little, "Uh, yeah, course Pete, I, uh, thanks," he scoffed and shook his head, "Don't be gettin' all sappy, c'mon."

Kraglin extended his hand to Peter, pulling it away the moment the teen reached for it, dissolving into a moment of boisterous chuckling while Peter pushed himself up and shoved the First Mate, though not very hard.

"Guess your on toilet duty next time," Kraglin joked.

"Do it," Peter smirked, "but I don't recommend trustin' your toothbrush after."

"That'll be the time I actually beat you," Kraglin said.

"If you could," Peter laughed.

"Capt'n says I can," Kraglin winked and Peter's smug smile vanished from his face.

Peter was mostly sure Kraglin would never take advantage of the new permission, but that didn't stop him from wanting confirmation. Kraglin of course enjoyed smirking mysteriously every time Peter brought it up, which he did several times over the few hours they spent rebuilding the motion control remote.

_**Hope you enjoyed.** _


	29. I'm not a kid!

**_To answer an important question- My plan for this is to give equal time to each time period of Peter's life up to the start of the first movie when he's 34, then a follow up after the end of the first movie as well as a follow up after the second, especially with an emphasis on Kraglin and Peter._ **

**_I want to clarify it wasn't the lack of reviews in general I was expressing my frustrations with, I will admit to my fair share of reading without reviewing so I understand not everyone wants to or feels comfortable leaving a comment. It was those who left a comment with a prompt request but failed to leave any response on the story they asked for was disheartening. It made me feel like I'd lost readers, I'd taken too long to produce their prompt, but I'm trying to go in an order here and some of these amazing ideas didn't fit when he was younger so it took a few chapters to get there, or maybe its still in the works, but those I have put out and haven't heard from the source of idea have made me feel inadequate. I love how many of you praise my writing, the support is so appreciated you don't even know, I criticize myself to no end._ **

**_Thank you so much, all of you who reached out with a comment or a message, forgive me if I respond quickly, I'm usually at work and to see a message in the midst of internet leads who will probably hang up on me I'm eager to answer a message of enthusiasm and support. Thank you =)_ **

**_This is just a few days after the last chapter which takes places nearly a year after the Nova Corps Worldmind festival if I don't make that clear enough. Stupid boots. I felt like I had to clarify some things with the boot building, cause y'know I'm insane, and this was planned to be a prompt but no joke Yondu just came in and started shit. Happy reading and thank you!_ **

Yondu had let Peter and Kraglin clear part of the hangar, that was mostly unusable parts no one had bothered to throw out, and use it as a practice area for the blaster boots they'd been working to perfect. Kraglin had stripped down the motion detection module to the absolute necessities and showed Peter how he'd installed tiny wireless connectors between the remote's and the boot turbines' internal sensors. Peter had sewn a pocket into his sleeve for easy access, as well as ensuring the remote was secure, and they did end up having to had two layers of ignifuge, but Peter decided he liked the rugged look of the black rubber on his boots.

Even Yondu had offered a few suggestions when he'd snuck up on them in the hangar, pointing out the little straps might hold briefly, but installing the turbines fully on one side with something that wrapped from Peter's ankle to his shin would ultimately last longer.

"And if you want any kinda height or speed y'better double it up," the Captain had said, finishing his critique of their invention.

"The board just had the two, sir," Kraglin's shrug had been nervous, clearly surprised by the Captain's reaction.

"There's about half a dozen'a these collectin' dust in the third quadrant closet," Yondu's remark had been enough invitation for Peter, who'd bolted instantly from the hangar.

Using Yondu's idea for securing the blasters, Kraglin and Peter cut the teenager's first Ravager jacket and used buckles and straps from a bunch of old holster belts they'd found, but they were uniform.

"Kraglin, Peter, you back here?" Tullk's call echoed in the hangar.

"Yeah, over here!" Kraglin yelled back from the workbench.

Peter was on the floor, hunched over the leather cutouts from his old jacket, using a laser along the edges to singe the sides into one piece and occasionally attached a buckle or strap. Kraglin's tongue was pinned between his lips while he soldered two blaster cylinders to either side of the thin control module he'd just painstakingly connected the wires between.

"Them those boots Capt'n was talkin' about?" Tullk asked, leaning on the workbench and inspecting the device in Kraglin's hands.

"Not much'a anything yet," Kraglin said, "but they're gettin' there."

"What're you makin'?" Tullk nodded at Peter.

Peter just picked the unfinished leather off the ground, shaking it gently and a few singed bits fell before he wrapped it around his shin and turned his leg to the side a little, "The blasters are gonna go here."

"Looks like you two got it all figured out then," Tullk's comment was as close to a compliment as the man could muster.

"Thanks t'the Capt'n," Kraglin said, "First ones we built weren't half this good."

"Well, work on 'em later," Tullk jerked his head towards the exit, "Chow time."

"Yeah, alright," Kraglin set the project on his workbench and turned to Peter, "C'mon, kid."

Peter scowled, he hated when anyone called him  _kid_ , and Kraglin damn well knew it, "I'm not hungry, go ahead."

Kraglin made a growling sound in the back of his throat, "Peter, c'mon, put it down, we'll work on it more tomorrow."

"I just said I wasn't hungry," Peter said slowly, his eyes set challengingly on the First Mate.

"And I'm sayin' I don't care," Kraglin forced through gritted teeth, "Get'cher ass up 'n eat with the rest'a us."

Peter breathed heavily, but with Kraglin bearing down on him and Tullk watching with interest a few steps behind, he realized he wasn't going to win, "Fine, whatever," Peter pushed himself up and started to walk away from his half-finished project on the floor.

"Pick it up," Kraglin growled warningly, his nostrils flaring, a clear indication he was nearing his breaking point.

Peter rolled his eyes, making sure Kraglin saw the gesture before turning and stooping to pick up the pieces of leather, buckles and tools, setting them deliberately on the workbench while glowering at the First Mate. He tried to push passed him, but Kraglin grabbed Peter roughly by his upper arm, tugging the young man close and whispered harshly in his ear.

"We  _just_  talked about this three days ago! Lose the damn attitude!" Kraglin released Peter as callously as he'd pulled him to his side.

Tullk offered a quick expression of stifled sympathy with more of an emphasis on ' _you should've listened the first time, kid_ '. Peter hated he even heard the crew calling him 'kid' in the looks they gave him and scowled harder than he meant to at Tullk, but he didn't care, and hung several paces back from the older Ravagers as they walked towards the mess hall.

He still sat with them during dinner, Peter didn't want to bring Yondu's attention to a disagreement between himself and Kraglin, and, since they'd been sitting together for nearly a decade, a sudden interruption to that routine wouldn't escape the Captain's notice. Kraglin and him didn't talk for the entire meal, however, which Peter ate quickly before leaving the First Mate, Horuz and Tullk to discuss a new Inter-Galactical law the Nova Corps had passed.

He shoved his headphones over his ears as soon as he left the mess hall and headed towards the hangar again, there was plenty of time before lights out.

Peter was so tired of everyone still treating him like a child. He was at least seventeen, or nearly seventeen, he hadn't checked his Earth calendar for a while, but Peter checked every few months and he was always close. He peeled Kraglin's old jacket off, tossing it over the back of a chair at the workbench, rocking his freed shoulders to the beat of  _Come and Get You Love_. If Yondu didn't offer to get him a new jacket on their next stop on Xandar he'd just buy it himself, but he'd rather save his money and convince the Captain into the purchase if he could.

They hadn't been back to Xandar since the altercation with Denarian Goch and Peter grinned as a memory of kissing Cynia flashed in his mind. He'd thought about her a lot in the few months immediately following the Worldmind festival, but, in the several more after that, her pretty face had faded from the spotlight. He hoped she was well whenever he thought of her, which is more than he could say for the couple girls he'd had similar meetings with since on Dakkam and Contraxia, Peter didn't even remember either's name, though that hadn't been his focus.

He'd been so drunk while practicing his make-out skills with the young Contraxian woman Peter could hardly remember what she'd looked like, but the Dakkanian he'd gotten much further with and had been mostly sober, yet getting to know each other hadn't been a priority. Guarra, Guanna, something like that, she wasn't as pretty as Cynia, but she definitely had more experience kissing, among other things. Her face had become a vague memory, but her dark, silky hair was seared into his mind, forever linked to the euphoric feeling she'd created while her head had bobbed in his lap.

That wasn't kid stuff, though Peter had decided against announcing the new experience to the crew or Captain, only telling Kraglin about the girl with the magic tongue. The First Mate had proudly jabbed Peter in the arm and told him that was only the beginning of the good stuff, making Peter extremely anxious for their next recreational planet stop. Though when Yondu announced it would be O'erlanii Peter's desire had plummeted, the few A'askvariians he'd seen on Xandar hadn't exactly been appealing. His stomach turned thinking about their needle-like teeth and what the Dakkanian girl had done, making Peter reflexively adjust his pants with a quick pinch, he would definitely never find himself in that situation with an A'askvariian.

A rough hand on his shoulder made Peter jump as Yondu turned him from the workbench, squeezing his muscular bicep harshly.

"What?" Peter wrenched out of the Captain's grasp while tearing his blaring headphones from his ears.

"How many times have I told'ja not t'have them damn things so loud?!" Yondu barked.

Peter blinked slowly and wiped a dramatic hand across his face where tiny bits of angry spit had landed.

"Well?" Yondu growled.

"Oh, you actually want me to answer that?" Peter scoffed.

The Captain's cheeks tinged a faint purple, proving to Peter he was toeing the line if he hadn't already crossed it. The smack to the left side of his head was expected.

"Watch it, boy," Yondu warned, but Peter's temper erupted.

"Stop," Peter couldn't help the word that spilled passed his lips.

"What was that?" Yondu's red eyes and mohawk fin pulsed.

"I'm  _not_  a kid anymore!" he challenged loudly, seething at the Captain, "I'm not  _boy_! Or  _Petey_! I'm stronger than half your crew damn it! Please, stop, stop callin' me that shit."

Yondu's eyebrows were raised in surprise and his snarling lips twitched upward at the young man, "I wouldn't say half."

"Y'know what I meant," Peter grumbled.

"Didn't realize it bothered ya," Yondu shrugged a bit indifferently.

"It does," Peter shrugged very sincerely.

Yondu nodded curtly, "Well, whether y'r'a kid or not it's time for my  _entire_  crew t'call it a day. Put y'r'shit away 'n get t'bed."

Peter didn't respond, but put the leather pieces and tools in a drawer before skulking passed Yondu towards the hangar entrance, grabbing his jacket on the way, slinging it over one shoulder instead of putting it on. The Captain strode alongside him in a moment and Peter rolled his shoulders back, straightening his posture to earn a little extra height, just a few more inches and Yondu wouldn't be able to argue whether Peter was taller than him or not.

"Pete, the hell you get off to?" Kraglin asked incredulously as he walked out of the shower room, bare chested, wearing loose pants and wicking the last bit of moisture from his short hair with his hand.

"I got it, Kraglin," Yondu said stiffly and Peter gave the First Mate a smug grin behind the Captain's back as they passed, catching Kraglin's eyeroll and head shake as he slipped into his room.

"Night, Yondu," Peter said, stopping at his door.

"Wait," Yondu's demand halted Peter's progress and he turned back to the Captain, "Ain't you owe me a chart on the Sovereign hierarchy, like, yesterday?"

Peter tried to hide the instinctual cringe from his face, having completely forgotten about the homework Yondu had given him the week before, "I'm almost done."

"Yeah?" Yondu grinned challengingly, "Let's see what'cha got so far."

"I'm really tired," Peter tried to cover quickly, adding a little pitifulness to his voice, "I'll give it to you tomorrow, but, can I just, go t'bed, please?"

"You haven't even started it have you?" Yondu raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, I have," Peter scoffed, but twisted under the Captain's hard gaze, "I mean, mostly, I just. Okay, fine, but it'll take me  _two minutes_."

"Y'r'not allowed in the hangar till it's done," the Captain said firmly, "Y'r'lucky I don't make it longer."

"Whatever," Peter grumbled, turning into his room.

"Scuse me?" Yondu snapped, gaining the teenager's attention quickly, "Y'wanna get treated like a man y'better start actin' like it, son."

Peter bit back a retort that he wasn't Yondu's son, forcing a neutral, "Yes, sir," passed his gritted teeth.

"You better send me that break down before breakfast," Yondu growled and turned to leave.

"What the hell's it matter?" Peter grumbled before shutting his door, backing into his room quickly when Yondu forced it open angrily and stalked towards him.

"Boy, you just do not know when to quit!" Yondu bellowed, stopping a few feet in front of Peter, who had backed up as far against his wall as he could, trying not to look intimidated, "I don't care what you think about what I tell ya t'do! You say  _yes, sir_  and do it! Am I understood?"

"What the hell do you care if I know the Sovereign hierarchy?!" Peter yelled back, "Or how t'get t'Sirius?! What does is frickin' matter?!"

Yondu's anger faltered into brief surprise, before his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed again, "You wanna spend y'r'whole life on this ship? Or y'wanna go out there on y'r'own not knowin' where y'r'goin' or who y'might run into? You think if you found yourself and that ship y'love so much stuck in Sovereign territory it wouldn't help t'know their rules? 'Cause them folks execute outsides for sneezin' around 'em. But, no, what good could information serve  _you_? Y'know everything already, ain't that right?"

"No," Peter muttered, his ears burning from his subsiding anger and building embarrassment.

"I'm sorry y'r'not an idiot Gef," Yondu scoffed sarcastically, "I've never so much as made him learn t'spell his name right 'n ain't gonna bother, but you, you can hate me all y'want, but I'm gonna ride'ja like a stubborn mule."

"Why?" Peter's question wasn't bitter as he stared earnestly at the Captain.

"You wanna spend y'r'whole life on this ship?" Yondu asked and Peter looked at him nervously, "Cause I don't think I could handle y'here for the rest'a your life," Peter chuckled lightly and they grinned at each other just enough to break the tension, "I see ya on y'r'own, comin' back a few times a cycle, work the big stuff together 'n make sure y'aint dead or nothin'."

"Really?" Peter was surprised and excited, in complete disbelief of the Captain's idea of his future.

"You don't?" Yondu scoffed.

"No, I do," Peter nodded, "I always have, I mean, since I met Kona 'n learned about scavengers-"

"Y'ain't a scavenger," Yondu growled, "Y'r'a Ravager, y'got a code 'n you always stick by it. Y'hear?"

"Yes, sir," Peter said.

"You might be too big to eat now, but'cha ain't too big to whup," Yondu's warning tone returned and Peter's stomach twisted, "You have that done before you step into that mess hall in the mornin', and I swear, you better straighten up 'n fly right, Petey."

Peter nodded, then looked at the Captain and said very calmly, "Yes, sir, but, please, can you stop, callin' me,  _Petey_ , please?"

Yondu obviously wanted to laugh more than he did outwardly, but nodded, "I stop callin' you a kid name you better stop actin' like one."

"Yes, sir," Peter agreed quickly.

"Alright," Yondu smirked, " _Quill_ , get t'bed, 'n you better not be forgettin' this conversation."

"No, sir," he promised, sighing heavily when Yondu shut his door after he left and plopping on his bed.

Under a mess of clothes at the end of his bed he grabbed his tablet and started researching the Soverign, quickly becoming intrigued by the impossibly rigid culture of what looked like those dumb awards actors won once a year on Earth. He smirked sadly when the memory of complaining to his Mom and begging her to change the channel crossed his mind, that was before she was sick, he'd really tried not to complain after he learned she was dying, at least not to her.

Slipping his headphones over his ears and bobbing his head along with the blasting beat, Peter finished the assignment in exactly twice as long as he said it would and went to bed with thoughts of solo-flighting through the galaxies.

_**Thank you =)** _


	30. Because he's my pain in the ass

_** So yet again, I started one way and ended another- this is the beginning of a prompt, I was asked for Peter to have a girl in Yondu's room, turns out this has been done, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to do it my way lol but Kraglin has been sort of chillin' in my ear lately being super patient and waiting, this is his bit. I'd also like to say my reviewers and readers are awesome and seriously if you're worried you're one of the people who wasn't responding to their prompts, I promise you weren't ;) Also, the Yondu birds and bees talk on Xandar was cheap, I really think he's gonna have something to say if he catches the kid with a girl though, especially in his bed, so that topic very well might get revisited in another way soon.  ** _

_** Thank you for your continued support, I'm sorry this has been a slow month, if you read my other fanfiction you might have seen the note in the last chapter about losing a good friend a few weeks ago. It's been rough, but I'm healing and Nelson was a huge supporter of my writing so I feel taking too long a break would be the last thing he'd appreciate. I dedicated the last chapter of my last fanfic to him, this chapter is also in Nelson's memory and I hope he'll be proud when his name is on the dedication page of my novel that he read the beginning of and helped so much in the development of my favorite character. Here's to you Nelson Pagan, I love you, I miss you and I hope you're smiling that wonderful smile ** _

“I ain’t questionin’ ya, sir,” Kraglin insisted with his palms up defensively, “just worried it’s a lot more responsibility than Peter’s had before.”

“Well, he’s gotta take it on sometime,” the Captain said firmly, “an’ Darbia’s about the safest place he could do a solo trip. Y’can’t protect him forever, Kraglin.”

“That’s not my concern, Capt’n,” Kraglin grumbled a little, it was part of his concern, but not most of it, “but maybe me, ‘r Tullk, ‘r somebody should go with him-”

“Oh,” Yondu chuckled knowingly, “little jealous Quill gets to go, huh?”

“No,” Kraglin shook his head adamantly, “no, sir, but Pete’s got a knack for findin’ trouble. An’ ain’t Darbia where the Gramosians been rebuildin’ their army?”

“Naw, they got the power back on Gramos,” the Captain said, “most’a their population moved back already, just a few members of the royal family ‘n their private guards stayed back, bettin’ their waitin’ ‘til their palaces are all warm ‘n stocked before they head home. Quill ain’t gonna get tangled up with anything, he’ll be there maybe two days before we meet him.”

Kraglin kept his comments about two days being more than enough time for Peter to find trouble to himself, “Yes, sir.”

“Kraglin,” Yondu’s called paused the First Mate’s departure and he turned on his heel to face the man, “Y’know if I actually needed somebody t’scout this I’d be sendin’ you. Just think the kid should get some practice on his own.”

“Aye, Capt’n,” Kraglin nodded, “Course y’r’right, just, never mind, I shouldn’t-.”

“What, Kraglin?” Yondu asked impatiently.

“Y’put a tracker on his ship?” Kraglin asked hopefully, relieved when the Captain smiled wickedly.

“And in his Walkman,” he confirmed and Kraglin was impressed he’d remembered the actual name of Peter’s music player, having called it a ‘talkman’ for several years despite Peter’s repeated correction.

“Then we ain’t never gonna lose him,” Kraglin chuckled.

“We’re not that lucky,” Yondu snorted with a sarcastic smirk and turned from his First Mate.

Kraglin wasn’t jealous, he really wasn’t, he wasn’t really worried about Peter either, maybe just a little, but mostly he was worried about the job. It wasn’t a hard job, but the potential payout was certainly worth making sure it was done right and Peter Quill’s track record of obeying orders was spotty to say the least.

When the First Mate entered the hangar, he spotted the broad-shouldered teenager under a wing of the Milano, his head buried in an open hatch to the mechanical components. With a heavy grunt, Peter’s sweaty face appeared, panting as he crouched to a resting position and dropped a tool to the ground with a clang.

“She about ready?” Kraglin asked.

Peter’s head snapped up at the First Mate with a startled expression, but quickly returned to his usual confident smirk as he nodded.

“Yeah,” Peter glanced at the open hatch above him, “just makin’ a few adjustments.”

Kraglin narrowed his eyes, shifting his gaze from the young man to the wing and back, “What kinda adjustments?”

“Nothin’ really,” Peter shrugged, pushing himself to stand and quickly securing the hatch door while Kraglin moved closer.

“You didn’t?” Kraglin sighed.

“Didn’t what?” Peter’s smooth response and completely neutral face boiled Kraglin’s blood, he understood Peter lying to the rest of the crew, hell even the Captain, but he’d never given the young man a reason not to trust him.

“Those gov’ners are there to keep y’from hittin’ warp speed on accident,” Kraglin growled.

“Seriously, dude, I didn’t do anything,” Peter insisted.

“I’m not stupid Peter!” Kraglin shouted, earning a shocked expression from the kid he’d rarely raised his voice to, “And I would’a help’cha if you’d’a asked for it! How d’ya even know y’did it right, huh?! Might end up soarin’ through a jump ‘n can’t stop, or lose control ‘n go careenin’ into an asteroid, or-”

“Okay, okay, Kraglin, I get it,” Peter put his hands up defensively and nodded, “really, I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was a big deal, I’ve flown without ‘em on other ships-”

“Not alone,” Kraglin challenged and Peter’s gaze dropped in shameful agreement.

“Y’gonna tell Yondu?” he asked, peaking at Kraglin through sweaty bangs over his eyes and the First Mate couldn’t help but soften his frustration, reminded of the little boy who used to give him the same look every time he was worried about being in trouble with their Captain.

“No, I ain’t gonna tell him,” Kraglin admitted, he should, but sometimes his protective nature towards Peter trumped his duty to inform the Captain of disobedience, “but we’re goin’ for a test run before you leave, I wanna make sure y’know what y’r’doin’,” Peter sighed exasperatedly and Kraglin raised a stern eyebrow, “Or we can just fix ‘em back to regulation now.”

“No, no, no,” Peter shook his head, “we can go. Wanna go now?”

“After dinner,” Kraglin smirked and jerked his head at the entrance, “Go get cleaned up.”

Peter hustled out of the hangar without any further encouragement, but turned back with a smile while grabbing his jacket off a chair, “Thank, Kraglin.”

Kraglin grinned at the back of the teen’s head, Peter caused him a lot of headaches, but making the kid happy gave him a warm feeling in his chest. As soon as Peter’s footsteps had faded, Kraglin pulled open the hatch under the wing and lifted to his tiptoes to get a full view of the internal components, but stopped. Kraglin scoffed to himself, realizing Peter’s boots had been flat on the ground when he’d been buried in the open hatch, somehow the First Mate had missed the teenager surpassing him, but there was indisputable proof of the few inches of difference between them.

After ensuring Peter had adjusted the speed governing system correctly, Kraglin snapped the hatch closed and moved to the other side, knowing Peter would have done exactly the same process, but not willing to let assumptions keep him from double checking. He’d taught Peter, though, and the young man was as meticulous as the First Mate, especially with his own spaceship.

“Y’ready?” Peter asked after a hard swallow of roasted emlons, pushing his empty plate into the middle of the table as he stood.

“Calm y’rself,” Kraglin said, picking up the juicy, yellow flesh and popping it in his mouth, “m’not’un’et.”

“I’m gonna get the engines warmed up,” Peter started backing towards the door and, as soon as Kraglin nodded, bolted from the mess hall, skirting around Brahl just a moment before colliding with the perpetually unamused Ravager.

“Kraglin,” the First Mate spun out of his chair, swallowing quickly as he faced the Captain, sitting at his own table at the front of the room.

“Sir?” Kraglin’s voice cracked a little as a chunk of emlon caught in his throat.

“What’s he doin’,” the Captain gestured the hallway and Kraglin stepped in front of the small table.

“We’re gonna take the Milano on a test run before he heads out tomorrow, sir,” Kraglin confessed, “Just wanna make sure everything’s good.”

The corners of Yondu’s mouth curled into a knowing grin, “At least y’ain’t worried about him, huh?”

Kraglin felt heat rise in his ears, but couldn’t help a smirk of admittance, “No, sir, not at all.”

“Don’t be gone long,” Yondu ordered, returning to his plate.

“No, sir, we won’t,” Kraglin abandoned the last few bites of his dinner and left the mess hall towards the hangar.

Kraglin knew Peter was being extra cautious, paying far more attention to his actions at the Milano’s controls than usual, and he knew it was for his benefit, but he had to admit Peter was a damn good pilot. The First Mate didn’t expect anything less, he’d spent countless hours teaching Peter to fly, plus Yondu’s occasional input, and couldn’t fault Peter’s confidence, at least not as a pilot. The teenager was far too confident in all things, but he’d at least earned the self-assurance in his skills at the controls of a spacecraft.

“Alright,” Kraglin admitted as Peter landed the Milano smoothly in the hangar, “we’ll leave the gov’ners how y’set ‘em, but don’t go doin’ somethin’ stupid.”

Peter smiled, “Course not.”

Kraglin rolled his eyes, tossing his seatbelt off and walked away from Peter.

“You ever go on a scouting mission?” Peter asked, hurrying to catch up.

“Couple times,” Kraglin shrugged, hopping off the ramp to the hangar floor, “Usually with Horuz ‘r Tullk though, I don’t know why Capt’n’s lettin’ y’go by y’rself.”

“I think he just wants me to get used to flyin’ on my own,” Peter said.

“Why?” Kraglin furrowed his brow.

“Y’know,” Peter shrugged, “Cause I ain’t gonna stick around here forever.”

Kraglin felt a terribly familiar discomfort in his chest and he stopped walking, inclining his head at the young man, “What’d’ya mean?”

Peter’s gaze dropped to his boots, shifting between Kraglin’s confused look as he spoke, “I mean, I’ll be back ‘n stuff, but yeah, I’m gonna do my own thing, y’know, for a while.”

“Oh yeah?” Kraglin was surprised by the bitterness in his tone, “And when the hell are y’gonna do that?”

“I don’know,” Peter mumbled to his boots, “Not  _now_.”

“You wouldn’t make it month on y’r’own,” Kraglin growled and watched the hurt flash through Peter’s eyes quickly covered by anger.

“At least Yondu thinks I can make it at all,” he snapped.

“Or maybe he just needs a break,” Kraglin couldn’t believe the words as they flew from his mouth and the instant crease of pain on Peter’s face before the young man stalked away left a heavy guilt in the pit of his gut.

He heard Peter’s door slam while turning into the corridor towards their rooms and sighed heavily before connecting his knuckles on the hollow steal.

“Pete, I didn’t mean that, c’mon,” Kraglin knew he didn’t sound particularly apologetic, but they didn’t normally get sappy with each other, though lately their issues with each other hadn’t been as easy to brush off as they had when they were younger.

“I’m fine, dude, leave me alone,” Peter called with barely hidden hurt in his voice.

Kraglin tried to push the handle, but it was locked, and he sighed again, shaking his head, “Alright, well, really, I didn’t mean anything, so don’t get twisted over it.”

A loud thud startled the First Mate and he rolled his eyes at the door before turning towards his own, but the Captain’s presence down the hallway, leaning with his arms crossed in the entrance to the command room and his red eyes narrowed on Kraglin made the young man change course.

“What’s the problem?” Yondu asked indifferently.

“Nothin’, we’re fine, sir,” Kraglin lied, but Yondu wasn’t interested in their squabbles and had made that more than clear in the past.

“Test run go alright?” he raised a blue eyebrow.

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded, “He’ll be fine gettin’ to Darbia in the mornin’.”

“Pro’lly in record time too,” the Captain scoffed.

“Sir?” Kraglin inclined his head, but his gut twisted with the man’s growing smirk.

“It was about time for the trainin’ wheels t’come off,” Yondu chuckled, “Y’showed him the air brakin’ trick I taught’cha?”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin knew his entire face and both ears were bright red, “That, uh, tracker y’put on there has a speed gauge?”

Yondu laughed and clapped his hand on Kraglin’s shoulder, causing a momentary buckling of the First Mate’s knees, “I weren’t born yesterday, boy.”

“Then y’know he’s gonna go faster than that when I ain’t onboard,” Kraglin said his words carefully, but Yondu’s amused expression didn’t falter.

“If he kills himself doin’ somethin’ stupid then he ain’t as smart as we give him credit for,” the Captain said and Kraglin nodded, wincing when the man’s hand sprang from his shoulder and patted the side of his face, it was a gentle move for Yondu, but it still stung a bit, “Git t’bed.”

“G’night, sir,” Kraglin said, walking away after the Captain nodded and turned towards his own large quarters off the command room.

He looked at Peter’s door for a few, long moments before closing himself in the familiar confines of his own room.

Kraglin stripped off his jacket and hung it on the back of his door while kicking his boots off and situated them at the end of his bed, then he shucked his pants and gave them a shake before tossing them over the top of his chest of drawers, performing the same action with his shirt next. He climbed into bed with the normal aches of exhaustion after a long day, but sleep didn’t find him as easily as usual. Kraglin hated the swirl in his gut, almost like he’d forgotten something, but worse. Upsetting Peter, not just messing around, really getting to the dark resentment he knew the younger man had, made Kraglin twist with guilt.

No one else in the crew invoked those feelings, but he had to admit he hadn’t helped raise anyone else on the Eclector either. Not that Kraglin had particularly wanted the responsibility, he hadn’t really liked the kid after getting yelled at for trying to defend the Captain from getting his fingers chomped off by eight-year-old Terran teeth. His hardened, orphan heart soften, however, when he’d walked up the hallway at Yondu’s call and saw a dusty, bruised little boy trying to keep a stiff lip. Kraglin had understood quickly what Skapraun had done and it still made him nauseous. The Captain had called Kraglin into his quarters that night with the express instructions he was to keep an eye on Peter, but the order was unnecessary, as the First Mate had appointed himself the role the second he’d seen the starving little boy, ice cold from hiding in the vents.

Before Kraglin had stowed away on the Eclector, he’d bounced between alleys and abandoned homes on Xandar, but he hadn’t always been alone. There was a group of street kids he’d grown up with, they took care of themselves first, each other second and screw everybody else. One boy though, Pagan, had lost his older sister, a girl Kraglin had always had a crush on while also being mildly terrified of, she’d gone too far in her thievery, too confident in her flourishing abilities and ended up being sent to Klyn. Pagan had been crying alone in an empty apartment where his sister had left him when Kraglin found him, it had taken a lot to get the little boy to eat and calm down, for a few nights he’d refused to sleep unless he was touching Kraglin. The preteen didn’t want to take care of someone else, but the kid was so small he’d have no chance on his own, so Kraglin decided until Pagan was big enough, he’d help. Pagan never got that big, though, and Kraglin closed his eyes tightly, angry that after so many years the memories still forced stinging tears.

Xandar’s winters weren’t typically brutal, but one had been. At first the snow had been fun, sending families, and even the grubby orphans, to nearby hills to slide down the powder on any slick surface they could find. The last few trips Kraglin and Pagan had made up the hill he’d let the little boy ride on his back, he’d gotten a kick out of it and Kraglin had to admit he hardly weighed anything. The days grew colder, however, and, while the housed citizens turned on their heat and the shops glowed with warmth, the children on the street huddled together in nooks to avoid the biting wind. The sound of Pagan’s ragged cough had torn at Kraglin’s heart, vigorously rubbing his hand on the boy’s back in an attempt to warm him, but his hand was still ice cold when his arm was too weak to continue. He was never sure if he’d fallen asleep or just passed out due to his frigid body temperature, but Pagan hadn’t woken when Kraglin shook him the next morning.

The ground had been too hard to even try digging a grave, so Kraglin stole a sheet from the back of a laundry, wrapped Pagan’s tiny body and pushed through the icy wind to the trees. He’d built a little platform of the driest logs and branches he could find, carefully laying Pagan’s lifeless form on top when he’d finished and said an inadequate good-bye before lighting a stolen leviora and tossing it into the kindling. Kraglin’s tears had finally fallen as the flames licked around Pagan, igniting the sheet and drowning his frozen body in heat.

Yondu and the Ravagers had landed a few weeks later, when the weather had warmed up a bit, and Kraglin was absolutely determined to get away from Xandar, from the memories every street and alley held. When a crate of yaro root with the Eclector as its destination crossed young Kraglin’s path after the Captain had refused to let him join, he’d done possibly the boldest thing in his life up to that point, but even being cast into the vacuum of open space by an irate Centaurian seemed a better option than staying on Xandar, where he knew his options.

Pagan had crossed his mind less and less over the years, until Peter had arrived, just slightly taller than the little Xandarian boy had been, but significantly better fed, and Kraglin found himself fighting off memories that caused his chest to swell. Taking care of Peter, watching out for him and teaching him had given the First Mate a surprising amount of satisfaction and pride. Taking him sledding on Contraxia was the first time he’d noticed, he’d just thought the kid would like it and was glad he had, but it wasn’t until Horuz’s attempt to sneak Peter away from Kraglin that he’d realized how much the little pain in the ass meant to him. His heart had banged in his throat, eyes bugging furiously from their sockets while he’d stalked into the bar and bellowed Horuz’s name. He’d never raised his voice to the older Ravager before that and was a bit shocked by the fear in Horuz’s eyes, but Kraglin had later considered the tone and volume of his voice and was a bit scared himself.

After the debacle of Peter being kidnapped on the dirty planet, Kraglin had asked Yondu if they could avoid Contraxia for maybe a cycle or so, only admitting to the Captain his fear of the luck he’d had with Peter on the frozen surface. Yondu had chuckled, but agreed to do his best to steer clear if they could, at least until Peter was old enough to watch out for himself in the rough environment and promised he wouldn’t tell the boy or the crew. A few of them had requested a stop on Contraxia, but Yondu didn’t oblige until Peter had physically matured, proved by requiring his own, new jacket when his shoulders ripped the seams of the hand-me-down from Kraglin.

He knew it wouldn’t be long before Peter would take off in the Milano and possibly never return, and that thought left Kraglin with the same swelling in his chest as the memory of putting Pagan to rest.

_**Thank you for reading** _


	31. Learnin' the Hard Way (Part 1)

**Okay, listen up beloved and adored readers, you're amazing truly and I need you, I have a question that I really need your help with- how far do I go? This 2 (possibly 3) part arc is covering a LOT of prompts and the one I alluded to (actually I think I just flat out said it, but regardless) is Peter being found with a girl in Yondu's room and the back story of his "i** _**llegal manipulation of a Gramosian Duchess" fit really well in this scenario to me, so the biggest question I really need answers to before I publish the next chapter is do I go PG-13 or R? I do seem to have some kids as readers and I'm really trying to take that into consideration, BUT I don't want to censor too much for the adults who might really enjoy this. So please please please if you have 3 seconds to just write PG-13 or R so I can get an understanding of my readers that would be wonderful thank you =)** _

**_Other Prompts being handled in this arc- Nutrition, gaarasgrl mentioned it and I thought it was a great idea to fit in because I actually have given that topic thought but just never considered anyone would be interested in the mundane details I give backstories to lol, Also Ravennight there's more privelege losing eventually (I'm sure you're all shocked Yondu would be upset about finding that in his bedroom) and for the several of you who have seemed a bit antsy (and down right demanding lol jk) of a spanking scene with Peter, just wait ;-) So THERE Prompt frickin' central over here folks, enjoy! =)_ **

"WAHOO! YEAH!" Peter jumped in his seat with adrenaline, having broken his own speed record after propelling through a jump and narrowly avoiding a large, slow moving cruiser.

His navigation screen flashed as Peter decreased power to the turbines, Darbia was approaching in two clicks. A quick glance at the fluid meters and fuel gauge made the young man grimace and chuckle out loud, thankful the Ravagers would be meeting him on the planet in a few days or Peter would've had to use his own money to refill the Milano. Yondu said keeping the fleet ready to go at all times was highly important and never batted an eye when Peter asked for a few extra units for fuel, he always asked for more than he needed, but the Captain had yet to catch on, Kraglin said he was asking for trouble.

"Quill!" Yondu's voice crackled through the intercom and Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, Yondu?" he answered.

"Where y'at, boy?" the Captain asked.

"Just approachin' Darbia," Peter answered quickly, anticipated yelling in response, Yondu would know he couldn't have gotten there so quickly going a normal speed, but lying about his position seemed an even worse choice, somehow the Captain would know.

"Made good time," Yondu commented dryly, "though adjusting those gov'ners prob'ly helped."

Peter grinned, "Kraglin tell ya?"

"Naw, sometimes he thinks I'm as dumb as you do," Yondu's remark was echoed by Kraglin insisting in the background that wasn't at all true, but Peter chuckled.

"I'm bein' careful, I swear," he hoped Yondu would believe him.

A loud, single laugh was answer enough, "Quill, you ain't never done anything careful in y'r'life! The hell makes you think I'll believe you'll start now?"

"Yes, sir," Peter smirked, "I'm just rounding the southern hemisphere towards Ligeno now."

"Good," Yondu said, "Wait at the atmosphere's edge 'n remember say-"

"I know," Peter sighed, repeating the memorized phrase, "Raluger messenger."

"And if they ask about y'r'ship?" Yondu asked impatiently.

"My transporter's being repaired 'n the company only had M-ships left," Peter said the lie perfectly.

"Call if something goes wrong," Yondu said gruffly.

"I will-"

"And let me know when y'land," Yondu ordered.

"I will-"

"And find Barook as soon as y'get there," the Captain continued.

"Yondu," Peter urged, "I know, I will, I got this. The guard ship is comin' up now, I gotta get off the line."

A quick beep confirmed Yondu had disconnected their conversation and a moment later the robotic voice of a Darbian atmosphere guard echoed into the Milano's cabin. He didn't even question Peter's ship before letting the young man descend to the planet below.

He'd never been to Darbia before, but it reminded him of every other planet he'd landed on and followed the specific instructions Yondu had given him, bringing the Milano down in a small field just outside of an urbanized area.

"Okay, I'm down," Peter clicked his intercom on, relaying the promised update back to the Eclector.

"Barook's expectin' ya," Yondu said, "I told him you were close."

Peter rolled his eyes and considered he should've told Yondu he was further from the planet, if only to enjoy a few minutes to himself before getting to work. With a heavy sigh, Peter tossed his seatbelt off, trudged down the ladder and out the back hatch of his ship, snatching his backpack of spare clothes on his way.

Immediately, Peter wanted to remove his leather jacket, feeling the humidity practically melting it to his skin. He walked towards the buildings he'd landed behind while shedding the Ravager uniform and caught sight of a man approaching from the back door of what seemed to be an abandoned structure. Instinctively, Peter's hand found his blaster while he fumbled for the sleeve containing the remote to his boots.

"Peter Quill?" the man called, waving an arm over his head.

"Barook?" Peter called back.

"The one and only," the man extended his arms to the side and bowed dramatically, Peter giggled to himself.

"Yondu told you I was close," Peter commented while approaching Barook.

"Seemed a little concerned 'bout you comin' alone," Barook smirked, "but'cha look like a smart kid. Didn't have any trouble gettin' in did'ja?"

"No, sir," Peter shook his head.

Barook made a disgusted face, "Don't call me that! Barook is as formal as I'll let'cha address me, most folks 'round here just know me as  _Detfyr_ ," he began chuckling and Peter joined, despite lacking in Darbian slang and having no idea what the nickname meant, but decided he'd stick to calling the man Barook.

He followed Barook back into the run-down building, but was surprised when he was met with rows of well organized shelves, every object was tagged and spaced evenly, all of them looked expensive, rare or simply irreplaceable. Peter shoved his hands in his pockets, holding his jacket close over one arm as they passed an obviously fragile, glowing vile, Yondu's angry bellow echoed in his mind with just the thought of accidently breaking something.

"So," Barook began, "What'd Yondu send ya on y'r'own for? I mean, this trip doesn't really need a scout."

"Yeah, I know," Peter shrugged, avoiding all detail in his answer, "but he asked me to, so I'm here."

"That's life livin' under a Captain," Barook grinned and led Peter to a flight of stairs, "I got'cha all set up in one'a my spare rooms, get'cher'self settled, when the suns're down we'll head to the spot."

"Yes, s-, okay, got it," Peter smirked and Barook chuckled, pushing open a creaky door to a room that was just a little smaller than Peter's on the Eclector.

"It ain't much, but it's only a couple days," Barook said, gesturing the young man into the room.

"Thank you, it's fine," Peter said, tossing his jacket and backpack on the bed, slapping a hand over his stomach when it emitted a loud growling sound.

Barook laughed, "Y'like hicksen?"

"Never had it," Peter shrugged.

"Well, I got a bunch in the kitchen," Barook jerked his head down the hall, "C'mon."

Peter followed the man, he wasn't against trying anything once, having realized his great love of emlon crusted beeju after finally giving in to a taste test. Hicksen, however, did not have the same appeal, but Peter finished what he'd been given and thanked Barook for the meal.

"Yeah, I know it ain't much t'what y'r'used to," Barook scoffed lightly, "Not a lot to sustain ya, but it's the hot season here so ain't much growin'."

"I'm not used t'anything special," Peter assured him with a grin, "Ravager slop y'know."

Barook inclined his head with an amused expression, "How old are you?"

"Nineteen, uh Terran years," Peter fibbed, he had turned eighteen a few months ago and decided to round up, not that anyone would know the difference.

"That's right, y'r'a Terran," Barook nodded, "but look at'cha, kid! Y'think muscle like that grows without help?"

"I mean, I'm pretty active," Peter said, unsure how he felt about the man assessing his physique.

"Can't be that way if y'ain't got the right fuel," Barook said knowingly, "I know Yondu likes t'eat good, yaro root, emlons, bet'cha eat that stuff all the time."

"Daily," Peter scoffed thinking about the ruffage Matbua only cooked one of three ways, none of them were particularly awe inspiring, but he actually found himself missing the blobby creature's meals after choking down the hicksen.

"There y'go!" Barook swatted the table and laughed, "That's some'a the healthiest crap out there for  _any_  humanoid, I don't care what planet y'r'from, practically everything ya need as far as nutrients 'n minerals for a few days in a single serving. Expensive stuff them mild climate roots."

Peter nodded as he took in the information, understanding a little more why Matbua held a grudge against Kraglin for ruining an entire crate of yaro root when he'd snuck onboard.

"How do you know all this?" Peter asked.

"D'ja see my storage room?" Barook chuckled, "I've been all over, learned a lot 'n talked to a lot'a different folks. I'm originally from Syria, but I've held residence on dozens'a planets in my time, prefer it here though, quiet, Darbian's don't like being disturbed, pretty much only allow it 'cause'a favors they owe. Thankfully, they owed me a pretty big one. So, I do my business 'n get left alone. Plus, I enjoy the heat."

"It's actually kinda cool in here," Peter commented, noticing he wasn't sweating anymore and almost wished he had his jacket on.

"Well, I have to escape it," Barook snorted as he laughed, "A man would melt out there!"

Peter refrained from inquiring further, sure the man would make less sense about the topic the more he continued.

"So, this spot," Peter began, "The Kypdjen Vaults, is it guarded?"

"Ain't you the scout?" the man winked, "Just messin', yeah, there's a couple at night, but they ain't paid well, could prob'ly bribe 'em t'beat up themselves."

Peter laughed at that, he liked Barook, even if his food was terrible.

* * *

The Kypdjen Vaults were not well guarded at all, Peter was surprised the place hadn't been raided before, but remembered the guards around the atmosphere and considered ground protection wasn't a huge priority to unsuspecting Darbians. Whatever favor Barook owed Yondu was allowing them access to the planet and subsequently the vault full of rare ore, mined miles under Darbia's surface. The Captain had negotiated a hefty sum to bring some of the precious metal to a Froma corporate executive who hoped to recreate the ore on their planet Chize.

"I was gonna ask y'before. What're them things y'got on y'r'boots there?" Barook asked on their return trek through the wooded area behind the city.

"Oh, uh, hover motors," Peter grinned, "Kraglin 'n I made 'em."

"So, what, you can fly?" Barook chuckled.

"Kinda, yeah," Peter nodded.

Barook scoffed lightly, "I'd like to see that."

Peter offered the man a mischievous smirk in the dark and held his thumb to the controller in his sleeve, instantly lurching off the ground in the clearing. Without having to worry about a ceiling, Peter went a little higher than usual, peering over the treetops to the dimly lit town they'd recently left.

"Careful, kid!" Barook called lightheartedly, "Yondu'll kill me if y'hurt y'rself."

Peter slowly brought himself back to the ground and chuckled, shaking his head at the man, "Naw, he'll prob'ly pay y'extra for gettin' rid'a me."

Barook's consistent amusement faltered, "Y'don't really think that do ya?"

Peter shrugged, "That I'm a pain in his ass, he tells me enough."

"Y'know," Barook sighed as they continued walking, "I've known Yondu a long time, never known him t'take much interest in anyone, but he sure seems to with you."

Peter shrugged again, unsure what to say.

"That pretty little ship y'came in on," Barook continued, "Is that yours?"

"She is," Peter smiled proudly, "The Milano."

"Interesting name choice," Barook chuckled, "but, I'm bettin' a nineteen-year-old Terran ain't got the funds t'buy somethin' like that."

Peter blushed as he nodded, "Yondu gave her to me."

"Hell, of a gift," Barook said, "All his crew have their own ships?"

Peter thought a moment and shook his head, "No, I mean they all have ones in the fleet they prefer, but, uh, no, they're all Yondu's."

Barook chuckled knowingly, but didn't continue the topic, which Peter appreciated because the man had made his point.

The next morning Peter woke to sunlight streaming in the window, even slapping a pillow over his face didn't dim the brightness and he finally gave up. He'd looked forward to sleeping in for once, but it had been so long since sun beaming in a window had woken him Peter didn't even think about it and found himself missing his perpetually dark room on the Eclector.

Barook was in the kitchen when Peter walked in, running a tired hand through his disheveled hair and yawning, the man turned to him with the same grin he seemed to always wear.

"Sleep well?" Barook asked, sliding a plate across the table towards Peter.

"Yeah, thank you," Peter picked up a piece of fried meat and turned it in his hand before popping the entire thing in his mouth, it was a slightly tastier way of making hicksen Peter supposed.

"So, what're y'gonna do with a whole day to y'rself?" Barook smirked.

Peter smiled, "Doesn't happen a lot, I don't even know."

"Well, there's a public house little ways into town," Barook suggested, "gets kinda rowdy sometimes, but I think you could handle it."

"Cool, thanks," Peter nodded, popping another piece of hicksen in his mouth, "You, uh, wanna join me?"

Barook expelled a short laugh, "No more than you want me to, but I appreciate the invite, kid."

Peter smiled, for some reason Barook calling him kid didn't make him as frustrated as it did coming from Yondu or the crew, but Barook also didn't sound as condescending when he used the nickname.

Peter dressed, debating his jacket for a few minutes, but decided he didn't want to carry it around and slipped the remote for his boots from the sleeve, shoving it in his pants pocket before he left. Darbia had no laws about openly carrying a blaster and Barook assured him he'd look stranger without a gun holstered to his side. After snapping the metal ear piece for his mask behind his ear, Peter fluffed his hair in the cloudy mirror in Barook's bathroom and bid the man good-bye.

"Try t'stay outta trouble or it'll be both our asses," the man chuckled waving Peter away.

Ligeno reminded him of the outskirts of Xandar's largest city, more of a town since the tallest building was only a few stories high, but he enjoyed walking aimlessly through the streets.

Peter smiled at a group of children kicking a ball around when he turned a corner, it reminded him of the kids he'd played with in his neighborhood on Earth. He made sure to stay to the outside of their game, but a miscalculated move by one boy sent the ball straying towards the young man and Peter moved quickly to kick it back.

"Thanks!" the boy waved, "Y'wanna play?"

Peter was about to refuse, but he had nothing else to do and really didn't want to get to the bar early with the geriatric bunch who nursed drinks until sunset. Regardless of what planet, there was always a group of old drunks taking up residence on their local bar's stools. So, Peter smiled and joined their game.

Running around in the heat made sweat drip down Peter's face, but it was exhilarating to laugh and play without worry. He was too old and knew it, but rationalized the childish game by reminding himself he'd lost out on the years he should've gotten to enjoy them, plus he had no intention of telling Kraglin or anyone else about it. Though the humidity caught up with him after a little while and a panting Peter waved good-bye to the children as he continued wandering, shaking his sweaty shirt away from his skin to cool down.

He entered a part of town that was better kept, with actual paved roads instead of dirt paths, and passed a few bustling Darbians, clearly in a hurry to be somewhere. Peter took pleasure in rattling Kraglin about the few inches he had over the First Mate, but the Darbians towered so far above the young man that bragging about a few inches more than six feet seemed ridiculous. The Darbian's were completely indifferent to Peter's presence, however, and he simply felt inadequate as he walked down the busy street, but not threatened.

On the corner was a lavish building with a covered porch wrapping from one street to the next, allowing the well-dressed occupants to look down at either sidewalk while sipping cool drinks and lounging on the plush furniture. Peter hardly paid the raised porch any attention while he stood in front of it and searched the streets for the bar Barook had mentioned, he couldn't remember the name of it, Ligeno hadn't seemed large enough to get lost in or to have multiple drinking establishments.

"Hey!" a female laugh reached Peter's ears, but he didn't know anyone here so she couldn't've been addressing him.

"Stop!" another soft laugh echoed in the background of his concentration, "Visi you're terrible!"

"I know, but look at him," the first girl giggled, "Hey, cutie don't walk away!"

Peter turned uncertainly, surprised to find a gorgeous young woman smiling at him from her position leaned over the railing of the porch. It wasn't a particularly kind smile, more mischievous, but it looked good on her. Peter's eyes flashed very briefly to her ample bosom when she leaned over even further, but hoped she didn't notice. The wink she offered told him she absolutely had and hadn't seemed to mind.

"Uh, hi," Peter said, trying to grin, but being very wary of appearing creepy.

"What's your name?" she crooned.

"Peter," he said.

"That's a new one," she giggled, "but I like it."

"Thanks," Peter had developed significant confidence around girls, but something about the poised young woman's unbreaking eye contact was rattling his self-assurance.

"I'm Visi," she laid a delicate hand over her breasts, making it impossible for him not to glance, before waving indifferently towards her thin friend, "this is Keetia."

"Nice t'meet'cha," Peter nodded at the other young lady's nervous wave.

"You're not from around here," Visi commented.

"No, just passin' through, Miss," he said politely.

"Ooh, such sweet manners," she giggled, "We're not from here either,  _thank the gods_ , there is  _nothing_  to do!"

Peter nodded, "I'm noticin' that. You get t'go home soon at least?"

"I hope," Visi sighed dramatically, but recovered quickly, "Well, where are you off to?"

"Me, uh, I'm just sorta, walkin' around," Peter admitted, "Heard there's a bar nearby."

"Amaraden's?" she brightened, "We love that place! Maybe we'll see you up there?"

"Yeah, cool, I hope so," Peter smiled.

"Count on it, cutie," Visi winked at him again and abruptly turned her back to the railing.

Peter scoffed to himself and continued walking. Visi wasn't the first outspoken rich girl he'd encountered, but she was easily the most beautiful and he couldn't get the image of her leaning seductively over the railing out of his head. There was no way she didn't realize what squeezing her arms closer did to his view of her chest and wondered if he'd get a closer look at Amaraden's later.

There wasn't much to do in Ligeno and Peter found himself sliding onto a bar stool next to a wrinkled Darbian much sooner than he'd hoped. Amaraden's served kojak though and that was enough for Peter, but he also placed an order for fried ost, knowing better than to drink all day on an empty stomach and the hicksen had done little to fill him up.

Amaraden's was a bit fancier than Peter expected and he felt very underdressed in his sweat stained t-shirt and dusty, black pants with a blaster secured to one hip. Only a few patrons gave him strange looks, most didn't seem to notice the teenager sipping drinks and tossing crispy curds in his mouth. Peter enjoyed the opportunity to observe his new surroundings, but the conversations between these residents were not nearly as entertaining and drama-filled as those he'd overheard on Contraxia or even Xandar, leading him to believe all Darbia's citizens had the same feelings about peace and quiet as Barook.

Peter was halfway into his third kojak, however, when the volume inside the pub increased as soon as Visi and a group of giggling girls practically fell through the door. Peter saw several bar goers roll their eyes at the girls before returning to their own conversations, but a few scowled for an uncomfortable amount of time. If Visi and her friends noticed, they did a spectacular job of ignoring them.

"Peter!" Visi screeched, earning a few more glares and Peter couldn't help a little wince in his grin as she approached him, but was a bit shocked when she laid a hand on his thigh immediately, "I'm so glad you're here, come with us, we have a spot upstairs."

"Oh-kay," Peter stammered, grabbing for the units in his pocket as he stood and flagging down the bartender with his free hand, "Let me just pay with this guy."

Her scoff became a giggle and Visi hardly looked at the man behind the bar as she said, "Put his tab on mine."

Peter managed to slide a tip to the bartender as she pulled him away, following her group of friends to a private door in the back. The Darbian guard bowed slightly before opening the door for them and Peter tried to give the bouncer a gratuitous look as he passed, but the man kept his eyes on the floor.

After a very quick glance up the stairs, Peter took the bouncer's lead and turned his eyes down to avoid staring up Visi's friends' extremely short skirts. She giggled wickedly and tipped Peter's head up with a well-manicured finger under his scruffy chin, but he pulled away with an uncomfortable laugh.

"You're a good boy, huh?" she teased, tracing her finger along his jaw line before swiping it slowly along her bottom lip.

Peter's mouth was dry, "Not particularly, just, uh, have a healthy respect for women."

Visi emitted a happy moan, similar to appreciating a delicious bite of food, "I don't care where you're from, but don't you dare leave my side."

Peter chuckled, wishing she'd make that sound again, "I've got all night."

_**So how far? I'm not raunchy, I'll never be raunchy, but there's definitely some tasteful smut potential here so tell me what to do- please!** _

_**I hope you're liking where this is going, thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you =)** _


	32. Learnin' the Hard Way (Part 2)

_**Part 2 of 3** _

_**I have been laughing at myself since publishing the last one, I completely shot myself in the foot with that questions and, while I greatly appreciate everyone's feedback and took it all into consideration, I have to give a shout out to the few people who also commented on the chapter lol I think I found a compromise that will work for everyone.** _

**_Parts of this are TV-MA/PG-14, I personally don't think its dirty, but from an outside perspective this is the kind of scene you'd find on an adult TV show, not the CW (I love the CW, that wasn't a shot) IF YOU WANT TO SKIP THESE PARTS be on the watch for * markers, I've put these in front of every paragraph involved in "those" scenes so just scroll till you don't see * anymore. There are 2 scenes with * markers in this chapter, the first is a bit lighter if you want to give it a shot ;-)_ **

**_I'm so excited to hear what you guys think! And scared, but hey it's all out there now lol Enjoy and Part 3 coming soon!_ **

The private room upstairs reminded Peter more of a fancy parlor than a bar, he didn't even see a bar in the dimly lit room, sectioned off in nooks by heavy curtains that hung from ceiling to floor. Plush cushions and pillows horseshoed each curtained alcove with a low, iridescent table in the middle, a few had the curtains pulled shut, but most were unoccupied.

Visi's friends ignored the young waitress welcoming them and made their way passed her to the rearmost couches, Peter gave the pretty young woman an apologetic grimace, but she too had her eyes on the ground as he passed. He was pushed into the booth by the gorgeous, giggling young woman who dramatically fell next to him, but practically landed on Peter's lap, slipping a hand between his thighs and giving him a small squeeze as she righted herself on the couch.

He was surprised to find himself as uncomfortable as he was turned on, the only other girl who had been so forward was the Contraxian whose name he'd forgotten, but she hadn't been anywhere near as pretty as Visi. Peter didn't necessarily mind her obvious intentions, but it was certainly throwing him off the usual lines it took to convince a girl to give him the attention Visi was so willing to offer.

The waitress brought their drinks, brightly colored cocktails for all the girls and a simple kojak for Peter, which he thought was strange since they hadn't ordered, but he drank it all the same.

"It's nice to see you again, ladies," Peter looked up at the man addressing the three young women huddled together on the opposite side of the booth from Visi and himself, he wasn't Darbian, definitely at least a few inches shorter than Peter, and his bright red skin led to the assumption he was an Ergon.

"Hi, Krol," Keetia, the only friend Peter recognized, blushed nearly the same color as the Ergon staring at her, "Would you like to join us?"

Visi cleared her throat and scowled across the table, Peter felt uncomfortable and glanced at Krol, who seemed unaffected by the slight.

"My friends and I have a table already," he gestured to his right, "but you are all welcome to join us."

Keetia smirked awkwardly at Visi.

"Go," she jerked her dark head with the order and leaned closer to Peter as her tone sweetened, "We'll be right here."

"You're terrible," Keetia shook her head and giggled while sliding out of the booth, taking the hand Krol offered with another blushing smile.

"Why's that?" Peter chuckled when he was alone with Visi.

"Why's what, baby?" she crooned, kissing his jaw line and snapping her fingers, almost immediately the curtains closed.

Peter wasn't even sure what he was going to ask anymore, not to mention he was fairly certain he knew the answer anyway, "Why are you terrible?"

"Oh," Visi giggled, pushing Peter towards the back of the booth, "We just mess with each other."

***"Yeah?" Peter allowed her to recline him against the cushions, but was overwhelmed with nerves and excitement when she straddled his lap in her short skirt, the warmth between her legs encouraged a hard pulsing directly beneath a few layers of fabric.

*"You," Visi ground her hips down, earning a distinct throb in the young man's pants, "are by far, the best-looking man I've seen since we've been on this desolate rock."

*"Yeah?" Peter tried not to sound as nervous as he was, she had called him a man after all, "Well, uh, doesn't seem to be hard to do that here."

*She made the happy, moaning sound again and smiled, "Don't be modest," Visi stroked her fingertips gently down his scruffy chin, "You have a strong jaw, like a hero from an old legend."

*"Mhmm," Peter just nodded, unable to tear his attention from her deep, purple eyes and loving her sultry compliments.

*Visi didn't waste another moment, sliding her fingers through his dark hair as she brought her mouth down on his. Peter eagerly put his hand on the back of her soft neck, pulling her closer gently, while his other nervously rested on her bare thigh. She didn't stop moving her sweet lips, flicking her tongue teasingly in Peter's mouth as her hand found his, guiding it further up her leg and under her skirt. Peter's fingers curled instinctually, but only a moment before apprehensively settling on her warm skin.

*"Do you, uh," Peter asked his question between the moments her lips weren't attached to his, "Wanna, talk, f'r'a, minute?"

*Visi sat back and giggled, "Sure, what do you want to talk about?"

*Peter didn't want to talk about anything. He just wanted to keep doing what they were doing, but just about every girl he'd ever kissed had wanted to get to know him a little before doing so. Visi's purple eyes danced in the low light of their enclosed booth and Peter lifted his head as he pulled her close and resumed their activity. If Visi wasn't going to make him work for the fun, Peter wasn't about to argue with her.

*When her fingers slid down his chest and found his belt buckle, however, Peter jolted again.

*"What?" Visi asked with a wicked smirk, "You don't want me?"

*"I do," he nodded adamantly, "I do, but,  _here_?"

*"What's wrong with here?" she giggled, sliding her fingers inside the waistband of his pants a little and Peter swallowed hard.

*He contemplated for a moment how great of a story it would be that he lost his virginity in a private booth on Darbia, but then he remembered the last time he'd gotten in trouble at a bar over a girl and, while the circumstances were vastly different, Peter forced himself to think about the job. Yondu had finally trusted him on a solo flight, it wasn't even a necessary scouting mission, but the Captain was giving him a chance to get out on his own and Peter didn't have to be a genius to know another run in with the authorities would ruin any follow up opportunities.

*"Is there, uh, maybe somewhere,  _private_  we can go?" Peter made sure to layer his question with an indifferent tone, but noticed his fingers flexing nervously on her thighs and stopped, unsure how long he was doing it.

*"We're all alone," Visi crooned, sliding her slender fingers under his shirt and slowly up his firm middle.

*Peter felt goosebumps erupt on his chest, finding the gentle scratching of her nails both tantalizing and unnerving. Her argument was valid, they were alone, but only by the grace of heavy curtains, which were definitely not sound proof.

*"I bet'cha got a nice set up at that corner house," Peter tried to sound alluring, but, when she grimaced, was afraid he'd come across creepy.

*Visi's soft, mysterious smile returned, however, as she shook her head, "It's not at all private there."

*Peter nodded, falling back into the rhythm of her kiss when she bent her head to his, but pulled away a few moments later, "I have a place, well, a ship."

*Visi brightened instantly, "You have a ship?"

*Peter's stomach twisted. He probably shouldn't have told her that, he definitely shouldn't bring her onboard the Milano, but Peter didn't want to lose the chance at the offer Visi was making him. If she insisted on not leaving the booth he'd almost certainly push passed his inhibitions and rationality and find himself exposed behind the privacy curtains, but he really wanted to avoid that at all costs.

*"Yeah," he nodded, "not far."

*She made the happy moaning sound again and Peter was sure she felt the small surge of interest in his groin when she winked and ground her hips briefly on his lap. His hands grasped her thighs firmly, pulling her down while pushing his tongue against Visi's slipping in and out of his mouth.

***"Take me to your ship," she whispered so close her lips brushed his ear.

Visi didn't even wave at her friends as she pulled Peter to the stairs, though he noticed they didn't seem concerned with her disappearance and continued what looked like an enjoyable, and appropriate, conversation with Krol and his friends. They moved through the downstairs bar quickly, but Peter shot the bartender a happy smirk as they passed. He'd have liked to have had a chance to ask the man what the eyeroll and head shake meant, but Visi was snapping her fingers at the nearest patron and gesturing the door. The man scowled, but before he could start whatever nasty thing he planned to say Peter pushed the door open and guided Visi outside.

"That was the laziest doorman," Visi scoffed angrily, throwing an angry glare back at Amaraden's, but continued in step with Peter as he pulled her away.

"I don't think he was a doorman," Peter chuckled.

"Oh," Visi furrowed her brow, "I wonder why they don't have one anymore."

Peter said nothing, fairly certain that Visi had been snapping her well-manicured fingers at whoever was unfortunately nearest the door when she was leaving and most of the patrons had probably been too dumbfounded to do more than open it. The bartender's eyeroll made more sense.

"So, where's this ship of yours?" Visi tugged Peter's arm, drawing him close, but pulling away as he bent to kiss her, "In  _private_."

Peter let her go and held his watch up, pressing his finger to the face and a holographic screen illuminated over his wrist. With his other hand, Peter swiped the module to the tracking application and a map of Darbia appeared with a large dot where the Milano was and a smaller one where he and Visi stood. Thankfully, he'd been right in his assumption that after all the aimless walking around Ligeno he'd ended up on the closer end of the city to where his beloved ship was sitting.

"Up for a little walk in the woods?" Peter smirked, sure that had come out creepy, but Visi simply giggled and linked her arm in his as they walked towards the large dot.

It really wasn't that far of a walk, but Visi managed to complain nearly the entire time, of course she tried to make it sound like she wasn't, but Peter was an expert manipulator where Visi obviously hadn't needed to finesse her whining to get her way. When the path got a bit rougher, however, she stopped moving all together.

"Theses shoes are not meant for jungle excursions," she informed him and Peter bit back a laugh, realizing instantly she wasn't joking.

"C'mere," he smiled, taking two strides towards her and lifting the petite young woman in his arms, "How's this?"

"My hero," she moaned gently in his ear, tracing the outside of his cartilage with her tongue.

She didn't weigh much, but certainly kept him from walking as fast as he'd like, wishing he could suggest a quick break on the forest floor. Visi was certainly not the kind of girl who would agree to that, however, and he could practically hear her protest about ruining her dress with simply the thought of mentioning the idea.

Visi wasn't heavy, but, after a few minutes in the heat, Peter was sweating and just praying he didn't smell. If only he didn't have to walk the whole way. He stopped, closing his eyes as he internally chastised himself for being so stupid.

"Why are you stopping?" Visi demanded sweetly.

"I, uh, forgot," Peter scoffed, "I might have a faster way."

Visi raised her eyebrows with mild intrigue, but scowled a little as Peter swung her feet to the ground.

"Hold on one second," he said as he dug his sweaty hand in his pocket and pulled out the remote for his boots.

"What's that?" Visi couldn't have sounded less interested.

"Hold on," Peter lifted her back into his arms and winked, "Tight."

He'd never tried his boots while carrying someone, but even if he could only get them a few hundred feet, it would be a few hundred feet he didn't have to walk with the dissatisfied beauty.

There was significantly less lift than normal when Peter depressed the throttle button with his thumb, but they lurched off the ground and Visi gasped as she tightened her arms around his neck. A nervous giggle reached his ears and noticed Visi was peeking out from his shoulder at the view before burying her eyes into the fabric of his t-shirt again, Peter found it very cute.

He didn't fly very high, only fifteen feet or so off the ground, and kept his pace much slower than usual. Visi was acting adorably dramatic, but Peter was fairly certain if he increased in speed she wouldn't be acting anymore, nor would it be adorable. Not like the soft, quick kisses she was layering on his neck, those were, well, a bit insatiable.

Finally, they reached the end of the forest and Peter held back a sigh of relief seeing the Milano parked in the field ahead. He brought them to a rather smooth landing, considering his balance was altered, and smirked at Visi, but she showed no interest in being set down before they reached their destination.

"Your ship?" she asked with an unimpressed, almost disgusted, grimace.

"It's bigger than it looks," Peter offered, feeling a twinge of resentment at having to defend his beloved Milano.

"I bet it's fast," Visi smiled and he couldn't tell if it was fake or not.

"Very," Peter assured her, swinging her feet to the ground carefully as they approached the hatch.

He took her hand and led her into the Milano, grinning proudly as he turned on her in common area, but felt an angry pang seeing disgust return to Visi's expression.

"Your ship is, um," she looked around at the mess as if the word she needed was somewhere among the dirty clothes and snack wrappers.

"Yeah, sorry," Peter grimaced, grabbing the pile of clothes and garbage from his bunk and tossed it into a corner on the floor, "I've been traveling, haven't been the home ship for a few days."

"Oh," Visi crooned, sitting carefully on the spot of mattress she'd thoroughly inspected, "You have a bigger ship? This is just for quick trips?"

"Uh, yeah," Peter nodded, technically it was true, it just wasn't  _his_  ship exactly, "I'm just takin' a break, little vacation."

"To Darbia?" Visi giggled, "Of the thousands of better choices, you came here?"

"And I'm glad I did," Peter leaned down, putting his mouth over hers, partly for the enjoyment it gave him, but a little to make her stop talking.

*Visi worked her lips and tongue harder, raking her fingernails through his hair and leaning back just slightly enough that Peter understood. He wrapped an arm around her waist, easily lifting her further back on the bunk while never ending their kiss and crawling on top of her. Her hands traced down his neck, chest and sides to the hem of his shirt and Visi skillfully pulled it over his head. Peter felt the cool inside air rush over his sweaty skin, tingling up his arms and down his chest.

***A moan escape from the back of his throat when her soft lips kissed his collar bone, working down his right shoulder.

*Visi turned her eyes up to him with her mysterious grin and made the delicious sound before saying, "You're salty."

*"Yeah," Peter cringed, "sorry."

*"No," she giggled and kissed his shoulder again, "I could," Visi's lips travelled up his neck, moaning happily right behind his ear, "eat, you, up."

*Peter turned, kissing her hard as they slowly reclined on the bunk. Her soft moan turned into a sweet giggle when he slowly kissed down her neck, continuing to the bottom of the plunging neckline showing off the top of her breasts. Without consideration, Peter burrowed his face deeper into her warm, welcoming bosom, pulsing with excitement when her back arched and Visi emitted another low moan of pleasure.

*She slowly slid one shoulder strap off, more than invitation for Peter to tug the other and his breath stopped as he pulled the top of her dress down to her waist. Visi tipped his chin up gently and Peter cleared his throat, grinning apologetically, unsure how long he'd stared at her bare, perky breasts before she encouraged his attention back to kissing her. Her hand released his chin as their lips met and wandered to his, twisting her fingers into his and encouraged his hand towards her naked torso. Peter didn't need anymore guidance and tried to regulate his eagerness as his fingers slid over her ribs, finding a perfect sized handful of soft breast.

*Visi's fingers raked through his dirty-blond hair, pushing his head down and dipping hers back, opening up her fair neck for a series of quick kisses down to her collarbone and continuing, much slower, as his attention reached her chest. Peter glanced up while keeping his tongue tracing where her skin darkened and felt the crotch of his pants tightening even more when Visi bit her bottom lip, furrowing her brow and expelling a long, moaning sigh.

*She quickly found his belt buckle and undid it skillfully, crooning as her fingers snapped the button in one try, "I want you now."

*Peter managed to nod dumbly while shucking his pants with much less grace than Visi had used to unfasten them. His shorts slipped down his hips a bit, but her fingers slipped in the waistband, assisting their departure the rest of the way.

*Her hands were everywhere, or she suddenly grew more, but Peter just relished the sensations overwhelming him from all sides. Visi moved with expert ease, slipping from under Peter and flipping him onto his back as she climbed on top. A new, earth-shattering feeling quaked from the sudden, tight warmth wrapping him in pleasure and Peter's head fell back as he moaned.

***Time was the last concern either had as they crawled around the bunk, flipping over each other to offer new angles of enjoyment and levels of ecstasy Peter hadn't known existed. Visi gently directed his attention occasionally, to Peter's great appreciation, not minding that she was clearly more experienced than him, but wanting to give her as much gratification as she offered. Though, every euphoric moment he felt that heavenly warmth squeezing him convinced Peter there was no way she enjoyed it as much as him.

His breathing slowed from panting excitement while laying flat on his bunk with Visi curled next to him, naked, glistening with sweat and hopefully half as satisfied as he was. Her fingers gently traced his chest muscles before settling over his shoulder and sighing deeply.

"I think I should go," she said, but made no moves to get off the bunk.

"I want you to stay," Peter mumbled into her hair, kissing the top of her head as he squeezed her closer.

Visi giggled, "I'd love to," she kissed his chest and propped herself over him with her long hair tickling his neck and shoulder, "but my uncle might have a search party out if I don't get back soon."

Peter's chuckle faded when he saw no sign of a joke on her face, "I can take you back."

"You better," she giggled, bending down to kiss him, lingering a bit and letting her tongue tease between his lips.

* * *

Visi insisted Peter drop her off in the forest across from the fancy house with the large porch. He could see all the lights on and hear people talking, though the words were just garbled calls by the time they reached his ears. He stayed in the shadows, like she asked, while watching Visi scale along the brush and emerge further down the street, approaching the house with an indifferent stride as a group rushed from the porch to meet her. It seemed strange, though as soon as Peter realized Visi wasn't in any trouble, he shrugged off the oddly dramatic greeting and set off back towards Barook's.

He opted to walk since the sun had completely set and decided it would be better to trip on a root than to smack into a tree branch. He didn't hurry either, he was still pretty wired from the afternoon of delight in the Milano and doubted he'd be able to sleep anytime soon, Visi biting her lip while straddling him invaded his mind and Peter didn't bother trying to stop it. The recent memories started to get him excited again, until a familiar, gravelly call made all pumping blood cease in Peter's veins.

"Well, where the hell is he, Barook?!" Yondu barked and Peter's feet instinctually bolted through the rest of the trees, finding himself on the backside of the Eclector.

"He went out earlier," Barook insisted, sounding much less nervous than most would while under scrutiny from the Captain, "I'm sure he'll be back, Yondu. C'mon, let's have a drink 'n you can pound on him as soon as he stumbles back from Udd's."

Peter was scurrying under the ship, more of a strange gallop considering how far he had to hunch to avoid banging his head on the hard metal, and slid out just as Yondu was beginning to rage about Barook letting Peter go into town by himself.

"Hey, Yondu," Peter smiled from his position flat on the ground at the Captain's boots, "Didn't think you'd be here 'til tomorrow."

Yondu's expression was not amused, but Peter hoped he was hiding it well.

"See?" Barook chuckled, gesturing the teen pushing himself to stand, "He's fine."

"What'd you do?" Yondu asked.

"What? Nothin'," Peter said quickly.

"I know you done somethin' stupid," Yondu insisted, "Y'got that look in your eye."

"No," Peter scoffed, "this is just what I look like when I get a day off and have some fun."

"Drinkin' or girls?" Yondu raised an eyebrow.

"Dude," Peter grimaced.

"Both," Yondu nodded, whether satisfied that he had his answer or proud Peter couldn't tell, but he at least returned his focus to Barook, "What'd y'got to drink?"

"C'mon," Barook jerked his head towards the warehouse, "I got some Kovda from Zehoberei that's about as old as you."

Yondu shifted his eyes to the hatch and back to Peter, "Get your ship back in the bay then see if Kraglin needs ya."

"I'm hungry though," Peter complained with a pathetic hand on his stomach, "Can I pull her in tomorrow?"

Yondu closed his eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath, "It's not my fault you were runnin' around Darbia all day-"

"But you just got here," Peter implored.

"Quill," Yondu said sharply, "I swear to," he made growling sound Peter was very familiar with, "Fine. Go eat, but I swear, if Kraglin says you skipped out on him we're gonna have words, you 'n me."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, his ears burning with anger and embarrassment, all day he'd felt more like a man than he ever had, but then Yondu showed up to treat him like a child, as usual.

He overheard Yondu telling Barook about a devastating event on Zehoberei just a cycle or two ago, some crazed Titan had attacked and taken out the entire planet. Yondu said his only interest in the powerful being was staying the hell out of his way and Peter's interest was even less as he entered the large craft and headed directly for the mess hall.

Kraglin was tinkering with one of the crew's radio receivers at their usual table while banging sounds echoed from the kitchen and Peter knew Matbua would be less than thrilled at him for sneaking a snack while the cook was cleaning.

"Hey, Pete," Kraglin glanced up, but returned his attention to the device quickly.

"Hey," Peter forced a grin, he'd been avoiding Kraglin since their spat the day before he'd left for Darbia, but now really wished he wasn't, he had to tell someone about Visi and Kraglin was pretty much it.

Matbua was exactly as welcoming as Peter expected, rubbing the back of his head where one of the blobby creature's tentacles had snapped him while chasing the hungry teenager out of the kitchen. Matbua never pursued them passed the threshold into the mess hall though, and Peter sat across from Kraglin with a comically large bowl of left over emlons.

"Hungry?" Kraglin scoffed lightly after catching sight of the bowl.

"Ever had hicksen?" Peter stared at him blankly.

Kraglin grimaced with disgust and they both burst into laughter.

Peter's chuckling subsided and he sighed, "Krag?"

"Yeah, Pete?" Kraglin's focus had returned to the radio.

"I, uh," Peter blushed and lowered his voice even though there was no one around to hear them, "had a pretty good day."

"Yeah?" Kraglin commented absently, pulling a wire carefully from position, "What'd y'do?"

"Who," Peter corrected with smirk.

"Hmm?" Kraglin's eyes were still on the internal components his fingers were expertly working through.

"Her name's Visi," Peter said, satisfied when the First Mate's head raised slowly while his hands dropped the device.

Kraglin stared at him in disbelief and Peter laughed.

"What?" Kraglin managed after a few moments, "You did, but, what? Where?"

"Milano," he grinned proudly.

"And?" Kraglin asked eagerly.

Peter closed his eyes and expelled a long, satisfied breath.

"Yeah," Kraglin chuckled, "first time does that," he scoffed lightly, "Actually, it gets better."

Peter expelled a quick laugh, doubting that was true, but excited to find out.

"She Darbian?" Kraglin asked.

"No," Peter shook his head, "I didn't ask, but she said she's just visiting."

"Good," Kraglin chuckled, picking the radio up again, "a Darbian broad woulda crushed ya."

Peter laughed and nodded in agreement, shoveling another large bite of emlons into his mouth. The juicy flesh burst between his teeth, closing his eyes as he dramatically enjoyed the dish he'd complained about only a few days before.

_**Also, very sorry for grammar, spelling and general errors in this, I'm at work and was able to finish this part on a quick break so proofreading has been shirked in order to not have you wait longer ;-)** _

_**Thank you for reading!** _


	33. Learnin' the Hard Way (Part 3)

_**Part 3 of 3** _

_**No more * scenes ;-) I'm glad it seems for the most part they were enjoyed, but this chapter we only get some light entertainment between the two before our prompt jumps in and YONDU CATCHES PETER IN HIS BED WITH A GIRL, also several have requested a SPANKING SCENE since it's been a while, WAY back when I first started this someone asked for PETER TO CALL YONDU DAD and I was near convinced I would never find a way to make it work in the canonish verse, but well, here we are =)  and I can't forget the real SEX TALK everyone has begged for- you wanted it real, well you got it ;-p don't complain it's awkward, imagine how I felt writing it lol**_

**_I saw Infinity War opening night, please try not to post spoilers in my comments, I promise no one will get any from me, but if you'd like to discuss this amazing film please contact me privately on my FanFiction messenger, I'd love to =)_ **

**_WARNING: CONTAINS THE DESERVED BELTING OF A RATHER ENTITLED YOUNG MAN_ **

Turned out, Barook had made his suggestion of paying off the Kypdjen Vault guards to Yondu before the rest of the crew had arrived in the Eclector. Thievery had never seemed so much like a business transaction when Peter watched Yondu count out a stack of units for each of the two, massive guards. Both were extremely grateful the entire time, which Peter found pathetically comical when they thanked Taserface and Narblik throughout the very real beating the Ravagers gave them to authenticate their lie of being overtaken by a group of savage Darbian's in masks.

All in all, the job took much less time than usual and Peter hardly felt they'd even done anything illegal as the Captain insisted on getting a few drinks after successfully returning their haul to the ship. Peter found it extremely unnerving to be so exposed in a place he'd just worked a job, normally they'd be in the air already, but Yondu hardly seemed concerned and Peter's concern faded with every confident step the Captain took.

"Doubt you'll mind goin' to Udd's twice, huh, Quill?" Yondu scoffed lightly.

"Where?" Peter furrowed his brow.

"The bar," Barook said, "Isn't that where y'were all yesterday?"

"Oh, yeah," Peter agreed quickly, despite his continued confusion and Kraglin shot him an amused smirk while the Captain and his friend weren't looking.

When they approached a hole-in-the-wall style establishment on the far side of town from Amarden's and Visi's fancy wrap-around porch, Peter heard the laughter and yelling from inside and instantly realized this was the potentially rough bar Barook had told him to go to. Kraglin caught him laughing to himself and inclined his head questioningly at Peter.

"Yeah, this isn't where I ended up," Peter chuckled, surprised at himself for not realizing the mistake, though very glad he'd made it.

"I told'ja how to get here," Barook insisted.

"I sort'a wandered a while," Peter shrugged, "I ended up at some place called Amarden's."

Barook laughed out loud, "Boy, they must'a been starin' at you."

Peter laughed weakly, feeling a little embarrassed, "A few, yeah."

"That's the business district," Barook said, "Lotta rich folk over there."

"I noticed," Peter scoffed, wondering what Visi was doing while he was following his Captain into a seedy bar on the opposite side of Ligeno.

Yondu was a lot of fun after a successful job. He'd buy rounds and encourage his men to enjoy themselves, the entire crew, except Kraglin, took advantage and often drank themselves into complete inebriation for the day or two their Captain's mood was elevated. Over the last half-cycle, Yondu had been turning a blind eye to Peter drinking with the crew and the teenager took the man's silence and lack of scowling when he saw Peter with a kojak in his hand as permission.

They were ordering a second round when another group of Ravagers, including Horuz and Tullk, walked in and joined them.

"Boys!" Yondu raised his glass of liquor at the new arrivals, "Get a drink, y'earned it."

"Thank you, Capt'n," Horuz sighed loudly as he plopped himself on a bar stool near the tables their group was taking up, "We got everything secured in the cargo bays, soon as Pete gets the Murano in the hangar we'll be good t'go."

"Milano," Peter growled, even though he knew Horuz only called it the wrong name to irritate him, but the Captain's red eyes narrowed on him and Peter's gut twisted, immediately stumbling over bad reasoning, "I was gonna, it was-"

"Shut up 'n go!" Kraglin hissed quietly next to him without hardly moving his lips.

"Did I tell ya to put your ship away?" Yondu asked and Peter felt fiery humiliation throb his ears realizing the entire bar, Ravager or not, was watching them.

"Yes, sir," Peter said as quietly as he knew he could get away with while pushing his chair back with a sharp screech.

"Okay," their waitress returned with their second round of drinks, but looked curiously at Peter, "Are you leaving?"

"I'll take his," Horuz raised his hand from the bar and Peter shot him a rude hand gesture before storming out the door.

He kicked a rock down the street as he walked back to the ships, thinking about terrible things he'd never actually do to Horuz, no matter how satisfying they seemed.

The Milano was in the same field as the Eclector, or rather the third and fourth quadrants of the Eclector while the other two remained hovering outside the atmosphere nearby with a skeleton crew. The giant ship rarely stayed separated longer than the few days a job would take, though each section was perfectly capable of piloting as its own ship. Even one section of the Eclector made the Milano look like a remote-control toy from a distance.

As he approached, however, Peter pulled his blaster from his thigh and slowed his pace. The hatch was open.

Peter had personally closed the hatch himself and only him, Kraglin and Yondu knew the manual lock code and, since he'd just left them at the bar, Peter's heart beat faster as he got closer. He couldn't hear anyone or see any movement in the limited view he had of the Milano's interior, so Peter took a deep breath and silently tiptoed into his ship with his blaster ready.

As he neared the common space, Peter's back was flat to one wall, checking behind himself every few seconds and keeping his blaster near his shoulder. Peter stayed a few inches from the end of the opening, his eyes shifted quickly around what he could see of the space, ensuring his view was clear before pivoting quickly with his blaster extended at the other side of the room.

Visi gasped, backing into the corner of his bunk with her slender knees pulled to her chest.

"Shit!" Peter exclaimed, dropping the blaster at his side, "I'm sorry!"

"I wanted to surprise you," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly, holstering his blaster as he approached the bunk, "How did, uh, you, uh, get in here?"

"Through the hatch," she said obviously.

"Yeah, but, uh, was it open?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head, curling next to Peter as he sat, "but I saw you put the code in when you closed it yesterday."

"Oh," Peter cleared his throat, forcing his voice to return to its normal octave before continuing, "Okay, uh, what's up?"

"We're leaving soon, a few days," she whined, "I had to see you again."

Peter smiled, though made a mental note to change the hatch code as soon as he could, "I'm, uh, leavin' tomorrow, I'm glad y'did, I wanted to see you again too."

"Tomorrow?" Visi's bottom lip stuck out a bit and she leaned close to him, "But I'll miss you."

"Well, uh," Peter wasn't sure what to say, "I'm here now."

"You are," she crooned, kissing him as she climbed onto his lap and tried to push him back on the cot.

"Visi," Peter held her back gently, "I, uh, I'm sorry, I want to, I do, but, I gotta pull the Milano in."

"The what?" she giggled.

"My ship," Peter let his eyes glance around and Visi's followed, nodding her understanding.

"Into the big ship?" she gestured in the general direction of the Eclector.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Ooh," Visi smiled, "I'd love to see your real ship."

Peter choked trying to stifle a nervous laugh, "I, uh, I don't know, probably shouldn't, uh, there's, crew up there, I think-"

"You don't want to show me your ship?" she pouted again.

"No, no, it's not that," he insisted, rubbing his hands over her arms as she crossed them in front of her chest, making her breasts seem even larger.

"Then why can't you show me?" Visi asked, her large, purple eyes trained sadly on him.

Peter sighed, very sure he was going to regret this decision, but refusing her was futile, "Really quick, okay?"

Visi nodded excitedly.

Peter's stomach twisted, he was definitely going to regret this, "Alright, well, hang out down here while I pull her in, just in case anybody's in the hangar."

She sat back on the bunk, but didn't offer so much as a nod of agreement to his request. Peter slid off the cot and grinned nervously at her before taking the steps two at a time to the cockpit.

The Milano fired up instantly, like she always did, and he flew her low around to the back side of the fourth quadrant, hitting the code on the dash transponder for the steel doors to the hangar to slide open. Thankfully, the massive space was clear of Ravagers when Peter brought the Milano to a soft landing on its pedestal near the front.

"You are  _such_  a good pilot!" Visi exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Peter in the driver's seat and kissing his cheek.

"Thanks," he said, "uh, weren't you supposed to stay downstairs?"

"Are you mad at me?" Visi looked at him sadly.

"No," Peter scoffed lightly and he was rewarded with a passionate kiss.

"Good," she smiled, "C'mon, show me your ship."

Peter's stomach rolled as he unclicked his seatbelt and hurried to follow her below deck.

"I'm sure you're glad to be home," Visi gestured the mess in the main room as they passed, "you don't have to deal with  _this_  anymore."

"Yeah," Peter grimaced behind her, images of his filthy room flashing in his mind.

Somehow, miraculously, no one was in the main corridor to the third quadrant, but Peter pulled Visi quickly passed the large opening to the mess hall, knowing Matbua would be lingering in the kitchen. His palms started sweating, not just from fear of being caught, but the closer they go to his bedroom the more nervous he got about Visi's expected reaction to the even larger mess than what she'd seen in the Milano.

"Why are we walking so fast?" she asked and Peter cringed at the volume of her voice.

"I, uh, just can't wait to get you alone again," he whispered.

Visi giggled and jogged a bit excitedly, but her heels began clanging loudly on the metal floor and Peter's heart stopped. Without thinking, he swung around, scooping her into his arms and carried her as quietly as he could down the hall. She giggled again, burying her face in his neck and kissing him, Peter found himself more relieved for the silence than turned on by the act.

He couldn't take her to his room. He could see the look of disgust of Visi's face already and then what would've been the point of sneaking her all the way nearly to the command room. Well, there was an idea. A terrible idea, but Yondu's couch seemed a better choice than the mess awaiting them in Peter's room. He'd more than likely be at the bar for a while, there was a good chance Peter wouldn't get caught.

Bypassing his bedroom door, he continued to the Captain's quarters, trying to ignore the squeamish feeling turning his stomach.

He heard footsteps echoing in the hallway and hurried, but if Peter was anything he was stealthy and his boots hardly left a tapping sound in his wake. Once in the command room, he sidestepped through the entrance, ensuring he was hidden if anyone happened to walk through the hallway. True to the nature he'd learned, Peter maintained a grin, even returning Visi's kisses, relieved to have a quieter activity than the teasing sounds she was making so close to his ear he wasn't sure exactly how loud it would've been to someone nearby.

At Yondu's door, Peter took as deep and inconspicuous of a breath as he could before turning the unlocked handle and pushing into the familiar room.

He swung Visi's feet carefully to the floor on the rug over the threshold, pushing her lightly into the room while shutting the door without a sound.

"Well, this is nice," she leaned on the back of the long sofa and turned her gaze around the room.

"Yeah, thanks," Peter smirked, burying his face in her neck as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, but let one hand linger down her side, his fingers teasing the hem of her skirt.

Visi turned with her mysterious smile, "Take me to bed."

Peter hoped he managed to maintain his grin, while feeling nausea curdle in his chest, Yondu's bed was not a place he had any intention of ending up.

"What's wrong with here?" he leaned in a little, pressing her against the plush couch.

Visi giggle and shook her head, though her expression seemed to sour beneath her smile, "Why do you insist on arguing with me every time?"

"I, uh, don't-" Peter stumbled.

"I let you win last time," she almost sang, sliding down the back of the couch and tugging Peter by the hand, "I think I spot a nice, big, bed, right, around,  _this_ corner."

Peter's legs felt like lead as she dragged him to Yondu's perfectly made bed, but he let her do it, trying not to cringe when Visi hopped onto the foot of the tall mattress. She crossed her slender, mostly naked legs slowly in front of him, revealing the tiniest glance of her purple panties. Suddenly, Peter wasn't as concerned about his location, only about recreating the pleasure he'd felt the day before.

"Ah, ah," Visi backed up teasingly as Peter tried to crawl on top of her.

"What?" he stood, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but Visi was still smiling mysteriously.

"Take off your shirt," she demanded sweetly.

Peter smirked and complied quickly, loving the way she licked her lips while assessing his bare chest.

"Now your pants," Visi ordered.

"I, uh, gotta take my boots off first," Peter looked down at the high-shafted, black boots.

"Well, then I guess you better take your boots off," she arched a thin eyebrow and Peter nodded, hurrying to remove his boots, followed immediately by his pants.

Finally, Visi crooked a manicured finger in invitation, backing herself up on the Captain's bed while slowly reclining on the fur covers. Peter hesitated the briefest of moments before crawling on top of her, his lips finding hers while one hand got lost in her hair and the other was slowly working under her skirt. The soft skin on her hips had been teasing him ever since his fingers weren't in contact and he squeezed her upper thigh a bit with excitement he couldn't harness. Visi only kissed him harder.

Her skirt had been pushed up to her waist and Peter's hands were just reaching for the waistband of her little, purple panties when he felt Visi jolt away from him. Terror in her eyes, focused behind him, and Peter didn't have time to react before a strong grip on his wavy hair lurched him backwards to the floor.

"Yondu, I-" Peter stammered at his seething Captain, fear wracking him when the man's raging red eyes fell on him.

"Get out!" Visi pointed angrily towards the door, "You monster,  _get out_!"

Peter shook his head out of fear, disbelief and adamantly wishing Visi hadn't had an outburst when Yondu turned on her and the Yaka arrow flew out of its holster with a quick whistle.

"No, please!" Peter yelled.

"You better get off my bed 'n off my ship or y'r'gonna have another hole for someday to play with!" Yondu barked and Visi paled, jumping off the bed and hardly even bothering to fix her skirt as she ran screaming from the room, the arrow trailing her to the open door and, with a short tune, the brass weapon nudged it shut after she'd crossed the threshold.

Peter's stomach rolled at the familiar slam, having started trying to crawl unnoticed out of the room, and winced when a harsh hold on his upper arm lurched him to his feet.

"Don't even try it!" Yondu growled, shaking the muscular teen so hard his teeth knocked together, "Y'r'ass is mine."

"Yon-du," Peter stammered, having no luck trying to twist out of the man's grip, "I'm sorry, I, I didn't think you'd be back yet."

"That s'posed to make it okay?!" Yondu barked, "What in HELL would possess you to bring a girl into MY ROOM?!" Peter's gaze dropped to his socked feet, but the Captain wanted a response and shook him again, harder, "Answer me, boy!" Peter muttered something inaudible at the ground and Yondu's already strained patience snapped, grabbing a handful of the young man's dirty-blond hair and forcing Peter to look him in the eyes, "What was that?!"

"Mine's a mess," Peter admitted weakly, attempting a funny smirk, but a squeeze of Yondu's fingers returned his expression to a pained grimace, "I'm sorry!"

"Y'r'sorry y'got caught!" the Captain scoffed, no less than tossing the half-naked young man away from himself.

"No, Yondu, really, I am, so sorry," Peter pled, putting his hands up defensively as the Captain stalked towards him, but his backwards retreat was halted by the edge of Yondu's desk jabbing into his lower back, the teenager's blood ran cold when Yondu expertly undid his buckle and slid the belt from his pants, "No, Yondu, please, you can't-"

"Who the hell says I can't?!" Yondu barked and Peter jumped.

"C'mon," he tried not to sound as pathetic as he felt, "it's been like half a  _cycle_  since you, did,  _that_."

"Prob'ly part'a the problem," the Captain snarled, "Let's go, boy."

"I'm nineteen, I'm too-," Peter begged.

"You hardly just turned eighteen," Yondu challenged and Peter's eyebrows rose in surprise, "and I don't care if y'r'ninety-seven. No one, absolutely  _not one_  of my crew woulda had the balls to do this! Y'think if they had I'd been concentratin' my anger on their backside?!"

"No, sir," Peter mumbled, knowing most of the crew would've been killed for such a stunt, unless the Captain was feeling generous, but he'd have still broken bones, only Kraglin would be subjected to the same punishment as Peter and he knew the First Mate would never go into Yondu's quarters without permission, especially not with a girl.

"Now," Yondu growled and Peter swallowed hard, understanding the order, but wanting to do anything to avoid following it.

The Captain's patience had reached its limit, however, and, with a rough grip on Peter's bicep he flipped the young man around, pushing his upper body flat on the desk and pinned him down between his broad shoulders.

"Yondu, please don't!" Peter heard the childish whine in his voice, thankful no one except the Captain was around, not that he was really thankful for anything about the situation he was in with his backside in such a vulnerable position.

Peter hissed, snapping his lips together a moment later to stifle further expressions of pain after the first searing lash of Yondu's belt cut across his backside. His thin shorts were twisted from the scramble and the backs of Peter's thighs tingled with anticipation just before Yondu's belt bit across the exposed, pale skin. A pained gasp escaped his mouth no matter how hard Peter tried not to let it and he quickly snuck a hand back to tug the legs of his shorts down, unsurprised when his wrist was instantly wrapped in a tight grip.

Peter was not, however, prepared for the rapid succession of punishing smacks across his rear-end while Yondu held his arm twisted against his back.

"Ahh! Yon-du! No-oo!" his voice cracked and Peter let his head fall against the hard surface, relenting to the sobs he couldn't stop anymore and tried to hide his face with his free arm.

Yondu released his wrist, letting the young man pull his arm in front of him, not that it did much to muffle his continuous crying. He raised the belt again and brought it down across Peter's now bright red thighs and the teenager's shoulders heaved, but he didn't try to move or block the assault. The Captain had never whipped Peter so hard and he wasn't sure how much more he could take, but all Peter could do was sob into the crook of his elbow and hope he'd stopped.

"I'm sor-ry!" he screeched after another stripe missed the thin fabric of his shorts and sliced the bare skin at the top of his thighs, Peter was sure Yondu had simply flayed that skin off after the abruptly speedy attack and there had to be blood running freely down his legs.

"I bet y'r'real sorry I walked in," Yondu scoffed and laid the belt down again across Peter's shorts and the young man cried out, whimpering quietly until the next smack made him sob without any regard for who might be able to hear him.

Peter wasn't sorry for what happened with Visi, but he was sorry he let the gorgeous young woman convince him to show her the Eclector as well as severely apologetic for his badly considered plan to use Yondu's quarters instead of apologizing for the mess in his room. Yondu still probably would've been miffed that Peter had brought a regular girl onboard, but doubted he'd be receiving such a harsh punishment had he not been so audacious. The belt snapped hard on his already flaming backside and Peter wailed.

He didn't care if he sounded like a child, Yondu had taken a belt to him a handful of times before, but never with such ferocious intent, Peter just wanted him to stop.

"Please!" the end of this plea became a squeal as the belt came down again and Peter frantically began begging through cries, "Sor-ry- I- am! I- pro-omise- pl-plea-ease- YonDAD!"

A particularly stinging swat landed partially on the bottom of the fabric barely protecting his behind and partially on the bare skin of his already well punished thighs, making Peter collapse into soft, whimpered sobs. The table was pooled with tears and snot and Peter was sure it was the only thing holding him up as his legs shook from the excruciating burn.

He didn't register the hand on his back until Yondu patted him gently and Peter realized that at some point the relentless whipping had stopped.

"When y'r'ready, son," Yondu's tone wasn't ragged and furious anymore and Peter sniffled hard, wiping his nose on his forearm before pushing himself to stand fairly steadily.

He kept his eyes locked on his socked feet as he turned towards the Captain, quickly wiping stray tears with the backs of his hands and too embarrassed to meet the man's eyes.

"Look at me," Yondu ordered, but Peter whimpered and kept his gaze down, "Quill," at the demanding tone and use of the 'adult name' Peter snapped his full attention to the Captain, "I'm disappointed in you f'r'what ya did here, y'violated my trust 'n broke into a place you've always been welcome, but I never thought you'd abuse it like that."

Peter's gut rolled as a sack of bricks emptied into it, a simple apology wasn't enough, he'd really screwed up, he'd betrayed Yondu's trust and brought a stranger into the man's intimate space. Again, tears pricked Peter's eyes, but these were guilt ridden not pain driven. Yondu wasn't perfect, but he was the closest thing to a father Peter had and his disappointment sat heavy on the young man's shoulders.

"I'm really sorry," Peter said meekly, "I really am Yondu, sir."

"Gonna take a lot t'gain back my trust-" Yondu began, but stopped from the interruption at his door.

"Capt'n?" Kraglin called while knocking on the door he was pushing open and snapped shut behind himself, frantically fumbling over his words, "I'm sorry, y'know I'd never bother ya, while, y'r'uh-"

"Kraglin?" Yondu furrowed his brow at the First Mate as he hurried through the sitting area, "What's the problem?"

"The royal guards," Kraglin panted, "of the Gramosian's, they're, uh, here."

"Why?" Yondu asked, keeping his confused expression on Kraglin.

"That, uh, girl, they're here for Peter," Kraglin's eyes flashed with fear at the young man and Peter joined Yondu in his confusion.

"Me? But, why? Visi's alright, isn't she?" he suddenly worried about the girl who had only barely tugged the hem of her dress down before bolting from the room with the Captain's arrow chasing behind her all the way to the door, Yondu wouldn't have hurt her, but one of the nastier Ravagers could've caught her escape.

"She's fine, trust me," Kraglin spat bitterly, eyeing Peter with a mixture of fear and anger, "And her names's Duchess Visian Aldannarr by the way."

Peter furrowed his brow harder at the First Mate, but the slow growing growl that emitted from Yondu dragged his attention to the boiling Captain, who still held his belt in one hand, and Peter's backside throbbed.

"Gramosian ROYALTY?!" Yondu bellowed, snapping the belt on the side of Peter's hip, producing a loud yelp from the boy and Kraglin took a step back.

"I didn't know!" Peter insisted, rubbing the recently effected spot, "She didn't tell me!"

Loud pounding on the door echoed into the room and Yondu's gaze narrowed.

"Sir," Kraglin said, "I told them I'd come get you both, they, uh, Peter, we gotta-"

"Peter, get dressed," Yondu ordered, pointing at the boots, pants and shirt that were piled on the floor at the end of Yondu's bed.

Peter dreaded slipping the heavy pants over his sensitive backside, but obeyed the command and managed to only grimace as the itchy fabric settled over his punished thighs. Peter wondered why Visi, or Visian Duchess of something, hadn't told him who she was and what was such a big deal that guards had showed up. Yondu was angry and Kraglin was scared, Peter's nerves grew as they approached the door to the command room, and, when the Captain pushed Peter behind the First Mate with a cautious, gentle hand, his stomach twisted with fear.

Seven men, six in the same uniform, the one in the middle in a much fancier outfit of dark green, stood in the command room when the trio emerged from the Captain's quarters. Peter noticed their strange, pointed-tip blasters immediately, but the man in the middle seemed unarmed, unless his scowl trained on the young man counted as a weapon.

"You are the Captain of this craft?" the well-dressed man stepped in front of the guards and addressed Yondu rather haughtily.

"Aye," Yondu nodded curtly, "mind tellin' me who the hell you are 'n what the hell y'r'doin' on my ship?"

He scoffed, "I am the Marquess Motaro, and we are here to arrest the young man who had inappropriate relations with my niece, the Duchess Visian Aldannarr."

A cold shivered trickled down Peter's spine and he took a step towards the Captain, not fighting Kraglin's arm that halted him, but rather appreciating the familiar protection and leaned a little closer to the First Mate, finding just enough confidence to blurt out, "I, I didn't, she, she, we were both-"

Yondu snapped his fingers and Peter's rambling stopped, "I think what the boy here is tryin' t'say is it was consensual."

"Gramosian law doesn't care," the Marquess snarled, "she is of royal blood, my beloved brother's blood, may he rest in peace," the man's squeaked with emotion and a moment of silence followed the declaration for his brother's soul before Motaro continued, "We have already submitted the crime to Nova Corps to be added to what I'm sure is an extensive record-"

"Now see here," Yondu interjected angrily and Peter's chest swelled with appreciation, "my boy's clean, y'can't just go around slappin' sex crimes on people's records-"

"It's already done," the Marquess said simply, "and he will be coming with us for the remainder of his punishment."

It was Yondu's turn to scoff, "I'd like t'see you try."

"Captain," Motaro trailed off with an indifferent gaze at the Centaurian.

"Udonta," Yondu growled.

"Captain Udonta," Motaro continued, "this boy has violated one of Gramos' most sacred laws-"

"Funny, I thought we were on Darbia," Yondu smirked and Peter couldn't help nudging Kraglin, who kicked him in the shin.

"She is no less a Duchess here than on our home planet," the Marquess sniffed, obviously losing patience.

"No," Yondu agreed, "but if y'think y'r'army has any jurisdiction in these parts y'r'sorely mistaken. He stays here and I'm askin' y'kindly once, t'get the hell off my ship."

"He must be punished!" Motaro nearly raged, he seemed very ill at ease with how difficult Yondu was being.

"Believe me," Yondu said, "you'll never begin to punish him as hard as I have."

Peter's backside throbbed and his entire face burned with embarrassment, feeling almost every set of eyes in the room staring at him. His gaze was locked on his untied boots, but an all too familiar throat clear made the young man look pathetically at Yondu.

"Answer the man, Peter," Yondu said and Peter's eyes widened, flicking to the Marquess and quickly back to the Captain, who sighed, "Tell him what'cha got f'r'this little adventure with his niece."

Peter grimaced, silently pleading with the Captain, but Yondu's nostrils flared and he knew he had to spit out the words, "I, I got whupped, sir," he mumbled as quickly as possible and Kraglin leaned back a little until his shoulder grazed Peter's chest, the younger man instantly pushed into the support.

The Marquess was obviously confused, shifting his attention from Peter to Yondu a few times, "What is this,  _whupped_?" shaking his head adamantly, Motaro pushed on, "His punishment must be decided and carried out by the noble council of Gramos. Though I would expect a lengthy stay at the royal prison on Gramos, only four meals a day, made to bathe  _yourself_  in the natural hot springs and forced to sleep on the used beds of monarchs, it is quite the unpleasant experience I understand."

Peter stared at Kraglin who was almost bursting with amusement, but Yondu did chuckle boisterously for a few moments before answering the Marquess, "While that sounds awful, really,  _really_  terrible, I'll stick with my own tactics. Now," the Captain narrowed his gaze at the man and growled, "I'm losin' patience, get off my ship."

"No!" Motaro insisted a bit frantically, "I have called the council, I cannot return to them without him, without adequate agreement that he has been punished!"

"Y'wanna agree?" Yondu growled, "Fine. Peter, show the man."

Peter clutched Kraglin's jacket and felt the First Mate side step to put the young man fully behind him.

"Yondu, please," Peter begged while Kraglin tried to sound reasonable, "Sir, is this necessary?"

"Kraglin," Yondu snapped, "y'r'workin' in the right direction t'join him, 'n Pete, you ain't got a leg t'stand on right now, so don't argue."

With a sympathetic glance at Peter, Kraglin stepped aside.

The young man couldn't believe it, seven strangers, Kraglin and Yondu were all in the command room, and all except the First Mate had their eyes trained on Peter. One last pleading look at the Captain was returned with a sharp head shake and Peter swallowed hard as he turned his back slowly on the group. He couldn't believe he was doing this, except for the few times they'd passed each other in the shower room, not even Kraglin had seen Peter's naked backside and Yondu had never taken his shorts down during a spanking. Peter's face was burning and his shaking hands fumbled with the fastenings on his pants, carefully dragging them over his bottom and stopped around his knees.

"C'mon," Yondu's command was almost compassionate, but Peter still hated him at the moment, "shorts too."

His eyes were swimming with fresh tears and Peter was at least thankful his back was turned. Gently, but quickly, he tugged his shorts to meet his pants and couldn't miss an audible gasp from the Marquess or the distinctive whimper from Kraglin.

"Good sir!" the man exclaimed, " _You_  did this?"

"Aye," Yondu said.

"Will he not have extreme difficulty sitting, even walking?" The Marquess was obviously appalled, yet mildly intrigued.

"For a few days, that's the point," Yondu patted Peter's shoulder and he yanked his shorts and pants up uncaring if he let out a small cry as he did so, mortified as the Captain continued addressing the Marquess with a raised eyebrow trained on Peter, "His ship's grounded until further notice 'n he'll be too busy to even  _think_  for himself with all the chores I got lined up, so, I can assure you, my punishment will make a bit more of an impact than your four meals a day."

The Marquess Motaro nodded his understanding, "I believe that's true," he grimaced sympathetically at Peter, "I shall inform the council, but he will still have a record of the incident with Nova Corps, it's already done."

"Guess he's learnin' the hard way what messin' around with the wrong slut'll get'cha," Yondu spat and Motaro straightened, offense clear on his face, but he said nothing and stalked from the command room, his guards following in well-formed steps.

"Kraglin," Yondu jerked his head in a silent gesture for the First Mate to follow the unwanted guests on their exit.

"I got the whole crew lining the halls as soon as they boarded, Capt'n," Kraglin said.

Yondu nodded, "Take Quill to his room then."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin gently grabbed the shoulder of Peter's jacket and pulled him to follow.

"I know where my room is," Peter grumbled, not sure why he did because he didn't want Kraglin to leave.

"I know, Pete," Kraglin squeezed the younger man's shoulder inconspicuously as they walked into the hallway, the Gramos guards' marching faded into a distant echo and the First Mate pushed Peter's bedroom door open.

Peter moved stiffly towards his bed, stopping as his unbearably tight pants rubbed against very sore spot and turned to Kraglin with teary eyes.

"Do you, uh, care," he sniffled hard in an attempt to stop the tingling in his nose while tugging his pants, "they're really-"

"Get comfy, kid," Kraglin's chuckle was sad and Peter yet again heard a pained groan escape the First Mate as he slowly eased his pants off, kicking his boots to the side, "Need anythin'?"

"I'm okay," Peter sighed, dropping face first onto his unmade bed, his chest swelling with the threat of more sobs.

"Damn, Pete," Kraglin whispered sympathetically, "he really went t'town on ya."

The young man scoffed, attempting to clear his tightening throat and sound less upset than he actually was, "Yeah, I was there. Man, Krag, I swear he took skin off."

"Naw," Kraglin said, "couple welts at worst, but y'kinda earned it."

Peter expelled a harsh breath, "I can't believe he did that."

"What?" Kraglin laughed, "Peter he may've laid into ya, but-"

"Not that," Peter shook his head, craning to see Kraglin as he sat on the edge of his bed, "the  _other thing_ , with that Motaro guy."

Kraglin grimaced and nodded, "Yeah, that was, I'm sorry, Pete, but look huh, Yondu made his point, they're gone, we ain't gotta worry 'bout 'em comin' after you 'n it's not like y'r'ever gonna see any of 'em again."

Peter shrugged, not willing to completely relent that Kraglin had a point, "You were there though 'n I gotta see you every day."

"Like I ain't seen that scrawny ass before," Kraglin chuckled.

"Not as scrawny as  _your_  ass," Peter joked back.

"True," Kraglin smiled.

Peter turned his head towards the wall as a few lingering tears escaped his eyes, but the corners of his mouth jerked upward when Kraglin's hand found his back and rubbed gentle, encouraging strokes for a minute. His shoulders shuddered as the last sob burst passed his lips, but only for a moment as his eyes became heavy and Peter drifted into sleep with Kraglin's comforting hand still resting on his back.

He woke in his room feeling a weight sinking his bed and Peter turned, hissing as soon as his backside touched the mattress. Yondu smirked at him.

"Mornin'," he said simply.

"Mornin'," Peter mumbled, he was still angry at the Captain for embarrassing him so badly the night before.

"You 'n I didn't get to finish our discussion last night," Yondu's statement made his stomach roll with dread.

Peter just nodded, only managing to resist spitting a sarcastic comment due to the throbbing reminder in his behind.

"You've pulled some stunts, boy," the Captain continued, "but I didn't ever think you'd do somethin' like last night, I thought'cha had more respect for me than that," Peter hung his head, but Yondu pressed on, "I don't stop ya from much, Quill, Hell I trusted ya to go t'Darbia by y'rself, I think I've give ya pretty free reign off this ship," Peter kept his head down as he nodded in shameful agreement, "And then ya sneak a little tramp in  _my room_ , on  _my bed_ , Peter?"

"I didn't want to," he muttered.

"What was that?" Yondu asked sharply and Peter's head snapped up.

"I didn't want to," Peter repeated, continuing at Yondu's slight change in expression, "Visi, she, uh, she's kinda, well, she thought the Milano was a mess so I knew I couldn't bring her in here," he admitted quickly, gesturing the piles of clothes and garbage around them, trying not to stumble over his words when the Captain's gaze narrowed at him, "but I tried to keep her on the couch, I didn't want to, use your bed," Peter couldn't help himself cringing as the words forced their way out and burning with humiliating guilt, "I'm sorry, Yondu, I'm really, really sorry. I couldn't say no to her, I tried, I mean," he hung his head again and let his words trail away.

"Girls like that are hard to say no to," Yondu said after a moment and Peter glanced up, surprised to find understanding in the man's eyes, "but your shit bein' a mess ain't a reason to use mine. Clean y'r'damn room, Quill, and y'r'ship."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded.

"Where the Hell did you find a girl like that anyway?" Yondu scoffed.

"I was just walkin' 'n she started, talkin' to me," he shrugged, "she met me up at the bar-"

"The wrong bar," Yondu confirmed.

"I didn't know that," Peter mumbled.

"Didn't strike you as odd that a place Barook warned ya could get rough had a private upstairs lounge?" Yondu's question stung, he wasn't being condescending, but they both knew Peter should've paid more attention, especially alone on a strange planet.

"I didn't think," Peter admitted with an apologetic expression.

Yondu shook his head, "Y'sure didn't, 'n it got'cha a sexual indecency charge on your Nova Corps record and an ass whippin' I don't think you'll ever forget."

"No, sir," Peter admitted, his ears burning with embarrassment as his backside throbbed from the reminder.

"I want you t'know, though," Yondu's expression and tone were almost apologetic, "I hate what I had t'make you do last night, I know how humiliating that was, I really do Pete, but I hope you understand, that kept the authorities out of it, you got a mark on y'r'record, a nasty one, but besides that, it's over."

"I know," Peter agreed, but mumbled, "still really sucked."

"Yeah it did," Yondu sighed, reaching for Peter's shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze before the same hand found the teenager's cheek and lifted his face a little to look at him, "But it was the lesser of two evils to keep you outta more trouble."

Peter nodded, honestly understanding and feeling his anger dissolve as the Captain's blue hand patted his face and offered an amused, pointy-toothed grin.

"We gotta have a little talk about what'cha did with that girl," Yondu's hand fell away, thankfully, or he'd have been burned from the heat searing across Peter's face, "Now, I know you've had some fun with girls before, but, uh, this was, new, right?" Peter simply nodded with his gaze on the bed, "I thought so," Yondu sighed, "Prob'ly should'a said somethin' earlier, but, it's-"

"Weird," Peter offered when the Captain's sentence trailed off.

Yondu chuckled and nodded, "Effin weird."

"I know about,  _stuff_ , though," Peter said.

"Yeah?" Yondu raised an eyebrow, "What kinda  _stuff_?"

Peter cringed and his cheeks burned deeper.

"Y'know about phunfields?" Yondu was clearly as uncomfortable asking the question as Peter was being prompted to answer.

"Kraglin gave me some," Peter nodded, his ears pulsing with further embarrassment as his eyes flicked instinctually towards his dresser where the pile of single-use, sexual protection forcefields were stashed next to a wad of units under his socks.

Yondu seemed a bit surprised, but satisfied, "Good, 'n you used 'em?"

"Well, not  _all_ of 'em," Peter insisted and Yondu laughed boisterously, breaking the awkward tension instantly.

"Well, let me tell ya," Yondu smirked, "they don't change nothin', I've done it with 'n without, but there ain't a difference," Peter attempted an understanding expression, but was sure he cringed when Yondu continued, "Feels just as good, it ain't worth not wearin' one. Y'never know who else's been dippin' without a suit," Peter wished his bed would swallow him whole and bury him alive, "and the last thing you,  _or I,_ need is a half Terran anchor keepin' ya grounded somewhere for six cycles at least-"

"I get it," Peter insisted, grimacing at the Captain, his eyes silently pleading for him to stop.

"Y'better," Yondu said simply, clearly more relieved by Peter's interruption than miffed by the beet-red teen's impertinence, "I don't expect'cha to not have fun when y'can, just be smart about it."

"Yes, sir," Peter muttered, glancing quickly at Yondu with sincerity before returning his focus to his fingers that had mindlessly started pulling the threads sticking out of the end of his blanket.

"Alright well," Yondu sighed, slapping his knee and pushed to stand, turning his gaze around the disheveled space, "You got some work ahead'a you, son. Bein' this mess caused part'a it, start cleanin'."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded.

"When y'r'done here go straight to that biohazard you call a ship," Yondu's demand was a bit lighthearted and Peter couldn't help a small grin.

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

"You 'n she are both grounded on this ship 'til I say otherwise," Yondu said, raising a prewarning eyebrow in case Peter wanted to argue the punishment, "Got it?"

"Yeah," Peter tried not to pout, "I got it."

"Why don't you start with takin' that stack'a cups back to the kitchen on your way t'breakfast?" Yondu shifted his eyes to the hoard of glasses on Peter's nightstand.

"I will," Peter assured him, gingerly swinging his legs off the bed as he grimaced from renewed pain in his rear, causing a surge of guilt rolling in this stomach and Peter looked earnestly up at the Captain, "I really am sorry Yondu, I didn't mean to disrespect you, I just, didn't, think about it like that."

"I know, Quill," Yondu's sigh became a short chuckle, "That's why I didn't kill ya, anybody else would'a done that with intent," he expelled another quick laugh, "But y'r'upstairs head didn't have enough blood to think that much."

Peter felt himself blushing again, but offered a guilty side nod in agreement.

"Get dressed, get t'breakfast," Yondu ordered, striding to the door, but paused before he opened it and said, "And, Quill, you know the crew talks, but I'm the only one you gotta explain y'rself to."

"Yes, sir," Peter grinned, he'd already planned to rip into any Ravager who so much as tried mentioned it, besides Kraglin of course.

Yondu shut the door on his way out and Peter sighed, relieved to be alone and slid carefully off his bed. He craned his upper body and neck to inspect as much of the damage to his behind as he could before tenderly pulling new shorts and fresh pants on, hissing a little when the heavy fabric settled on the few, mild welts. Peter knew he'd deserved it, if anything he felt better knowing he and Yondu were square, or almost anyway. He doubted the Captain would make him stay on the ship during their next planet stop, which would be weeks or even a couple months, so being grounded to the Eclector wasn't much of a punishment. Although, he expected to find himself with much less freedom than usual during some of that time, sure Yondu would probably enjoy coming up with odd jobs for the first few days before his attention would shift.

Peter left for the mess hall with his arms full of cups, hoping Gef or Oblo would stumble into their typical, inept stupidity, that always got under the Captain's skin, and take the heat off Peter sooner than later. The heat in his backside, however, felt like it would never cease.

_**Thank you for reading! Hope I brightened your weekend ;-)** _


	34. How Deep the Scars Go (Part 1/4)

_**Part 1/4 - Kraglin** _

_**First, I'm not dead, just overworked. Last week I had an unexpected training seminar that ran the entire week (because why would the higher ups feel I need to know when someone's coming specifically for my department) so between Monday and Saturday I worked 63 hours and didn't even get a chance to open a word doc the entire week. If you think you missed this story, believe me, I was in actual tears of frustration and exhaustion and all I wanted to do was write for you. So when I publish my book buy it please and then I can just write for you all the time =)** _

**_Second, Thank you to all of you who have asked after me, I love that you care =) really, it makes my day. Ravennight I tried to message you but I can't =( the pet story is still in the works, funny enough it makes more sense when he's older and I hope you agree._ **

**_THIS is a few prompt requests, it's gonna be written from Kraglin, Peter and Yondu's views starting with the First Mate. The prompts this next arc will cover (this chapter and the next 3) are Kraglin getting the scars on his face (he gets messed up y'all so warning you now) and Yondu expressing his deeper feelings about his boys._ **

**_Enjoy!_ **

 

Kraglin finished the last wire connection under the Frami’s dash, wiping his brow with the least greasy part of his forearm while stretching backwards. Peter had been helping, but, the moment Horuz had called from the hangar entrance that Yondu needed one of them to help with an electrical short in his main navigation module, the young man had bolted from the tedious maintenance job, leaving Kraglin to finish alone.

Kraglin was waiting for the next thing to break. The last several weeks he’d felt like he’d been running from one end of the Eclector to the other. He was proud Yondu trusted his skills and credited him with Peter’s abilities, but, silently, he wished any other member of the crew could be useful mechanically. Horuz he supposed was sort of helpful and Gef tried, though Kraglin wished he wouldn’t.

With a heavy sigh, he descended the Frami’s cockpit and walked down the hatch ramp. He should be hurrying to the command room, but Peter could handle it, or at least not make it worse before Kraglin got there. The First Mate walked a bit lazily down the corridor, but, as he rounded the corner to the command room and familiar arguing reached his ears, Kraglin rolled his eyes and broke into a jog.

“That ain’t the way-” the Captain barked.

“I know what I’m doin’!” Peter yelled.

“The hell you do!” Yondu scoffed meanly.

“Back off, Yondu!” Peter snapped just as Kraglin skidded into the room where their commander was holding the top of the control module pedestal in the air while Peter was bent over the exposed components inside the base.

The Captain was about to retort angrily, but his red eyes caught the First Mate and he growled, “Come help him, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doin’.”

“Screw you,” Peter grumbled lowly, but lifted his head from the stream of wires and glanced pleadingly at Kraglin.

“Let me see,” Kraglin jerked his head and Peter side stepped the console, his hands still buried in the exposed interior, but allowing the First Mate room to take over.

“He’s tryin’ t’shove the external sensor into the intake control,” Yondu insisted condescendingly.

“I’m not-” Peter tried, but shut up when Kraglin’s foot depressed on his toes.

“Sir,” Kraglin began tentatively, “this, uh, is the intake control.”

Yondu’s eyebrows rose and he moved the top a bit, stretching the connected wires, to peer into the bay, “Y’sure?”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded, his eyes on the wire ends to avoid the Captain’s gaze.

“I told you,” Peter said smugly and Kraglin stomped his foot harder, “OW! Jackass stop!”

Kraglin’s ears burned and the urge to smack Peter on the back of the head had never been stronger.

“Gimme that,” Kraglin growled, snatching the wire Peter still held, “I got it, go be an asshole somewhere else.”

“Me?!” Peter scoffed, “You’re crushin’ my foot,  _he’s_  questioning every move I make, and  _I’m_  the asshole?!”

“Git!” Yondu jerked his head at the hallway, “I’m sick’a hearin’ you whine.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t’ve abducted me then!” Peter’s exclamation made the older men’s attention turn in awe as the young man stormed from the command room, his bedroom door slamming a few moments later.

Kraglin sighed, “I’ll talk to him when I’m done.”

“Don’t,” Yondu shook his head, pain hidden in the deep creases of his forehead, “He’ll cool off.”

Kraglin nodded, but his insides turned bitterly. The Captain had always let Peter’s disrespect slide and both the teen’s attitude and Yondu’s lenience had managed to worsen over the last cycle. Briefly, after the incident on Darbia with the Grasmosian Duchess, Peter had been on his best behavior, actually, Kraglin wasn’t even aware the teen could be so respectful. It hadn’t lasted long, though, and, as soon as Yondu’s attention shifted slightly from Peter, his punishment was forgotten. Kraglin tried not to be miffed by the allowances Peter was given, convincing himself he wasn’t jealous, though the First Mate was sure if he’d ever said a few of the things Peter had to the Captain the man would beat him into a coma.

“Alright, Capt’n,” Kraglin said, taking hold of the cover Yondu held and slowly brought it on top of the console, “Should be good.”

Yondu pushed down until the cover snapped into place and the navigation module sprang to life on a light screen between them. The Captain swiped and selected a few applications before nodding with satisfaction while closing the screen.

“He, uh,” Kraglin began tentatively, “he did almost have it right though, sir.”

The Captain made an affirmative grunting sound and scowled towards the hallway, “Put him on the exhaust stacks, can’t remember the last time they been cleaned.”

“Sir?” Kraglin furrowed his brow, the exhaust stacks were only cleaned if something was obstructing them and the last time that had happened was when a pregnant orloni had decided to wedge herself in one of the duct’s corners to birth her hoard of slimy lizards. Kraglin had not appreciated being the one voted to the task of clearing her and the nest, from the exhaust stack and had nearly plummeted over twenty feet when the mother orloni suddenly attacked him.

“He needs to remember I ain’t takin’ his crap no more,” Yondu growled, “Tell ‘em I want ‘em sparklin’, I don’t care if I ain’t ever gonna check or not.”

“Yes, sir,” Kraglin nodded as the Captain walked passed him and shut himself in his quarters.

The First Mate sighed and dropped his head a moment, not looking forward to the task ahead, but he’d been in those stacks by himself and, while he’d even been a few years younger than Peter was now, he didn’t want the teenager to deal with that alone. The Captain wouldn’t want him to help Peter, but if they didn’t tell him Kraglin was sure Yondu wouldn’t mind after he’d cooled down.

“Pete,” Kraglin called, pounding three times on the young man’s closed bedroom door, “C’mon, got a job.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Peter snapped and Kraglin’s lips contorted into an angry snarl.

“Capt’n’s orders, kid,” Kraglin decided to scoff with fake amusement and was satisfied when the door ripped open and Peter glowered at him.

“I’m not a damn kid!” he said forcefully, but didn’t yell and Kraglin knew Peter didn’t want to attract anymore attention from Yondu.

“Then stop actin’ like it,” Kraglin hissed, leaning closer to Peter’s face and holding his angry gaze until Peter’s faltered and his eyes shifted to the floor.

“I wasn’t,” Peter grumbled sadly and leaned in his doorway with defeat, “I was doin’ it right, Krag, I was-”

“I know, Pete,” Kraglin agreed warmly, “I told him too.”

“But he just jumps down my throat the second he thinks I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong,” Peter sighed.

“Honestly,” Kraglin scoffed lightly, “I think both’a you jump on each other so quick ‘cause y’r’expectin’ it from the other one, sometimes y’all don’t even give each other the chance t’actually do anythin’ worth fightin’ before you’re both hollerin’.”

Peter expelled a hard laugh and nodded to the side, “You might be right, doesn’t make it easier t’deal with though.”

“No,” Kraglin shrugged, “but you can’t change how he reacts, but  _you_  don’t have to lose it.”

“So, what,” Peter grumbled, “just let him yell at me without defendin’ myself?”

“He prob’ly wouldn’t yell so much if y’didn’t yell back,” Kraglin reasoned and, after a few moments, Peter smirked with silent admittance that Kraglin might have a point, “Alright, change into somethin’ ya don’t care about.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“Trust me,” Kraglin rolled his eyes, “the exhaust stacks’ll get dust in places you didn’t know you had. Don’t be wearin’ anything you ever wanna wear again.”

“Great,” Peter sighed while rolling off the door frame and back into his bedroom to dig through the piles of clothes scattered on the floor, it hadn’t taken long for the mess to return after the marathon of hours Peter had spent cleaning.

“Yeah,” Kraglin agreed in the same less-than-enthused tone while turning to his own room across the hall.

“The hell you helpin’ him with that for?” Horuz scoffed at the First Mate while leaning in the doorway of a supply closet.

“Didn’t nobody help me when I had t’go up in there f’r’that orloni,” Kraglin answered bitterly, tossing a wire brush in an already full bucket of cleaning supplies.

“Cause it’s a bullshit job don’t nobody wanna do,” Horuz laughed, “I say leave the brat to it, maybe he’ll get stuck up there ‘n we’ll be rid’a him finally.”

“Yeah?” Kraglin raised an eyebrow, “Then who y’gonna have run all the Damar’s test flights for ya?”

“He likes it!” Horuz retorted defensively, “I’d do it, but y’know how the Cap is, always tossin’ more jobs at’cha before y’r’even done with the first one.”

“And somehow that brat manages t’get his chores done  _and_  help with yours,” Kraglin stated simply while walking passed Horuz into the corridor.

Horuz made a choking sound as he tried to respond, but fumbled over his words as he followed the First Mate down the hall.

Gnaver, a new crew member who’d come onboard only a month before their trip to Darbia, was walking towards them and started chuckling at the stammering Ravager. Kraglin stopped and turned on the recent recruit with a scowl.

“Somethin’ funny t’you Gnaver?” Kraglin growled.

“Just Horuz’s tongue flailin’,” the weaselly man chuckled, staring dumbly at the First Mate.

Kraglin bit his lips together, sighing briefly to himself, before shifting the bucket to his left hand and landing his powerful, right fist into the recruit’s gut. Gnaver doubled over, sinking to his knees, he wasn’t a particularly large man, though Kraglin hadn’t punched him nearly as hard as he could, simply enough to make a point he’d thought he already had.

“We’ve had this talk, Gnaver,” Kraglin crouched, but didn’t get too close to the man’s greasy hair, trying to convince himself he hadn’t seen things moving between the clumps of dark strands.

The man was still catching his breath and heaved between his words, “I, thought, you, was, talkin’, ‘bout, Cap’s, kid.”

“He ain’t a kid,” Kraglin snapped, “and you better figure out quick fast ‘n in a hurry you’re the bottom’a seniority on this ship, to that kid,  _and especially_  a Ravager from Ogord’s own crew,” he gestured at Horuz with a jerk of his head, keeping his eyes locked on the man who was too cowed to bring his off the floor, but that was more than fine for Kraglin as he continued, “I don’t see ya startin’ shit with Taserface or Narblik, just who ya thinks a kid ‘n an old man,” Kraglin shot up a quick hand to stop Horuz’s protest behind him, “but trust me, greenie, there ain’t a soul on this ship that wouldn’t hand you your ass in a soup bowl.”

Gnaver nodded weakly, scurrying away the moment Kraglin stood.

Horuz laughed, shaking his head at the new Ravager walking briskly down the corridor and turned to Kraglin with a smirk, “Y’know, I can handle myself?”

“Not the point,” Kraglin said firmly, continuing down the hall, “I’m the First Mate, s’posed to act like it, and I’ve talked to that jerk ‘bout mindin’ his tongue ‘n not startin’ shit already.”

“Yeah,” Horuz harrumphed, “heard he was pickin’ on y’r’little brother.”

Kraglin offered the older man an unamused, side-eyed glare, but Horuz grinned smugly and Kraglin didn’t pursue the pointless argument.

“Y’know,” Kraglin began, heat rising to his ears a little, “we gotta code, Ravagers, but there’s a code between the crew too, ‘n part’a that is not talkin’ about each other’s licks,” he glanced at Horuz, who nodded in agreement and encouragement for the First Mate to continue, “I know y’all think there’s some special treatment when the Captain’s door closes-”

“Naw, kid,” Horuz stopped with a hand on Kraglin’s shoulder and smirked sadly, “I’ll take a few fists to the face over what you two get any day,” Kraglin’s gaze dropped as his neck started to burn, but Horuz shook him a little and said encouragingly, “Y’know why he does it though, with you two, like that.”

Kraglin stared at the older man and shrugged a bit impatiently for him to explain, “Same reason he made you first mate when you barely had hair on your scrote!” Horuz laughed, slapping Kraglin’s shoulder as he let him go, but continued in a more serious tone, “He sees somethin’ in you boys, got’cha both young when y’r’ready to learn. Now, you’d already seen some crap when you got onboard, pretty roughed up what I remember, but Capt’n liked that ‘bout you, knew you’d be loyaler than anyone if he gained y’r’trust, and hell he practically raised Pete, ‘course he looks at’cha both different than the rest of us. Most’a us don’t envy you though, Capt’n ain’t got his eyes trained on us like he’s got ‘em trained on you two, mostly Pete.”

Kraglin expelled a short laugh, “Y’should tell, Gnaver that,” Horuz scrunched his forehead at the bitter comment and Kraglin sighed as he began, “I walked into the hangar the other day ‘n hear Pete hollerin’, like really ragin’, y’know how he gets sometimes, anyway, I’m about to lay into him when that asshole Gnaver says to him ‘ _I might hafta tell y’r’daddy y’need another whoopin’-_ “

“He didn’t,” Horuz’s eyes went wide.

“Clear as day,” Kraglin growled, “Peter was lungin’ at him when I got near ‘em, I had t’let the kid get a few good knocks in before I pulled him off, but then Gnaver’s tryin’ t’tell me Pete attacked him for no reason, just mindin’ his business y’know.”

Horuz shook his head with an expression of amused shock, “Did’ja tell him y’heard him?”

Kraglin shook his head, “Nope, I yelled at Pete to go with me ‘n told Gnaver to finish washin’ the ship the kid was workin’ on, he had this dopey smile, thinkin’ Pete was gonna get his ass handed to him.”

“Can’t imagine Peter was too thrilled about that, though,” Horuz said.

Kraglin expelled a laugh, “That kid was workin’ non-stop for days when we left Darbia, soon as he realized I heard Gnaver ‘n was givin’ him a break from washin’ the fleet he tried to hug me.”

Kraglin wasn’t about to admit to the older Ravager that he’d returned the exhausted teenager’s embrace. Peter had practically thrown himself at the First Mate with appreciation when Kraglin had told him to take a nap, it was either return the hug or get knocked off his feet.

“Y’r’too soft on him,” Horuz scoffed lightly and Kraglin shrugged, “Capt’n too, but he’s not as bad as he used to be, ‘specially not since Darbia.”

“And Pete got his,” Kraglin said, “ain’t nobody else’s place t’go pokin’ at him about it, ‘n Gnaver’s been here long enough t’know that, don’t matter who it is.”

“Y’r’still too soft on him,” Horuz chuckled, jerking his head at the bucket of cleaning supplies for the exhaust stacks swinging gently at Kraglin’s side.

“Shut up,” Kraglin grumbled, but shared a small grin with the older man.

He knew Horuz had had a daughter before he’d become a Ravager, joining Ogord’s crew while grieving her death. He wasn’t particularly proud of his brief time on the legendary Ravager’s crew, having told Kraglin several times he was recruited right before Yondu was offered his own faction and was assigned to the new Captain’s team. When Kraglin had snuck aboard, Horuz was the one that heard the scuffle and stopped Matbua from strangling the skinny, young teenager in an open crate of yaro root. Horuz had told Yondu it might be smart to have a Ravager he could mold into exactly what he wanted when the Captain had been intent on leaving Kraglin on whatever planet they were nearest. The First Mate owed a lot to Horuz for the years he’d been a friend and occasional mentor, but Kraglin always wondered why Horuz had taken him under his wing while despising Peter from the moment they picked him up on Terra.

“Krag!” Peter’s call behind them made both men turn to the young Ravager jogging up the hallway, buried in a mountain of hoses and clutching a large metal box in one hand, “I dug out that bakyym ya asked for.”

“I’ll leave ya to it,” Horuz said to Kraglin, walking away before Peter reached the First Mate.

Kraglin grabbed a part of black tubing and lifted it to reveal the young man’s dirty face, tossing it over Peter’s head as he chuckled, “Sometimes I swear you like doin’ shit the hard way.”

“Why?” Peter scrunched his forehead, releasing the box he was gripping to Kraglin who pressed the largest button on the side and the hose wrapped around Peter instantly shriveled and retracted into the metal case, “Oh.”

“At least girls think y’r’cute,” Kraglin joked, slapping Peter on the shoulder, “Y’got that goin’ for ya.”

“Shut up,” Peter muttered, but his grin betrayed his embarrassed amusement.

Kraglin sighed and jerked his head down the hallway, “Let’s get this done, I don’t wanna spend all day in these damn stacks.”

“Stupid,” Peter grumbled, taking the bakyym from Kraglin and following him to the main maintenance hatch off the largest corridor in the second quadrant.

_**Thank you for reading, Part 2- Peter, coming soon** _


	35. How Deep the Scars Go (2/4)

**_Well guys I did it =) I finished my novel! I'm calling it a novel now because I printed it out to do the first read through edit and it's a novel =) With this becoming a reality I better start letting people know how to find this and, well, me, if you want to. I just started using the Twitter, I'm not really great at it, but I'll be using it and other ways to get the word out when it's available. So if you'd like to follow me, my at handle is McgrathMollie and my name (currently) is Little Broken Writer- seriously, I'd love to hear from you so don't even hesitate to hit me up!_ **

_**Part 2/4 - Peter** _

"This is so stupid," Peter griped again after Kraglin tossed the stack's access hatch to the ground with a clang.

"Repeatin' that ain't gettin' it done any faster," Kraglin scoffed, wiping his dusty hands on his pants, "Best way t'do this is start at the top. Here," he loosened the shoulder straps on the bakkym, holding it for Peter to slip his arms in, "Y'got y'r'grappler on?"

Peter snapped one of the grappling anchors on his belt and Kraglin jerked his head at the hole.

With a heavy sigh, Peter crouched to squeeze into the space while grumbling, "So stupid."

"Prob'ly wanna put y'r'mask on," Kraglin suggested and Peter didn't even respond, but slipped his fingers behind his ear and the steel, red-eyed mask built around his face, making it much easier to see into the dark tunnel.

There were dust particles flooding the stack, not that Peter hadn't expected it to be dirty, they removed all the used air from the ventilation system whenever the ship entered an atmosphere and replenished the cycle with fresh oxygen, but the slowly revolving spots everywhere in the red haze were overwhelming. Reclining his head all the way back as he stood upright in the tight space yielded the urge to express how stupid this job was again, but Peter bit his lips together.

"It'll take me ten seconds to get up there if I can just-" Peter tried one last time on an argument Kraglin had shut down.

"No," the First Mate echoed in his ear transponder and just outside the vent unit, "Just climb up there, y'r'boots might cause damage 'n I don't wanna deal with. Okay? No. Stop askin'."

Peter rolled his eyes, but pulled his grappling anchors from his belt while rubbing a toe on the metal side of the stack. Despite the dust coating, they gripped as designed on the smooth, flat surface and Peter secured his anchors with a strap around his hands, taking a heavy sigh before beginning his climb.

"Alright, Pete," Kraglin said as he stuck his head in the stack, slowly climbing in as the teenager ascended, "Careful, when you get to the top I'll tell ya easiest way to use that thing, we'll be outta he-"

"Kraglin," Peter snapped, "I can hear you, turn your transmitter off."

"Oh, sorry," Kraglin said, toggling the switch on his radio.

"We just gotta do this one?" Peter called.

"Three," Kraglin said and Peter dropped his head.

The vent was only about twenty feet high, but Peter had gotten used to using his rocket boots and did not appreciate having to revert to such barbaric tactics, his arms were sore halfway up. A vertical tunnel extended from one side, it was identical to the one he was in, besides having more debris on the bottom and what looked like an orloni skeleton further down the vent.

"C'mon," Kraglin's voice echoed in the tight space, "Y'wanna spend all day in here?"

Peter continued upward in the vent, grumbling at the First Mate under his breath.

"Alright, can you hear me?" Kraglin called from the bottom of the stack.

"Loud 'n clear!" Peter yelled to be heard through his mask.

"Okay, get'cher anchors set," Kraglin's reminder caused Peter to roll his eyes as he snapped the second grappling anchor to the metal side near a heavy, external vent cover.

"Yeah, then what?" Peter called, the First Mate was hardly a blur at the darkened bottom of the red tinged tunnel.

"See that vent cover y'r'next to?" Kraglin's question echoed bounced off the metal walls.

"Yeah!" Peter yelled.

"Anything in it?" Kraglin yelled back.

"Like what?" Peter scoffed, turning his head to look in the vent.

"Anything that shouldn't be!" Kraglin retorted, "Dead animals usually."

Peter grimaced, but checked through several slats and didn't see anything, "All clear! What's next?"

"The button where I pulled the hose in," Kraglin yelled, "Feel next to it, there's a wheel," Peter felt behind him on the contraption and located the large retracting button before his finger slid a little further to the tiny, flat teeth of the wheel, "That'll let the hose come up little at a time, so get enough t'reach that duct y'passed to the right, but don't go passed it."

He'd started scrolling his fingers as soon as Kraglin had pointed the wheel out and stopped quickly as he finished the order, slowly retracting the hose a bit since he'd already passed the vertical vent opening.

"How do I turn it on?" Peter asked loudly.

"There's a switch on the other side," the First Mate called, "but make sure THE HOSE IS NEAR A WALL!"

Peter only heard him because Kraglin turned his radio on quickly, cringing as the First Mate's yell echoed in his mask and strained to pull the powerful hose to one side. As soon as it latched itself to the vent side, the hose was easier to maneuver and Peter slid it around all four walls, finding the wheel much harder to retract in full power mode.

"Pull it back in slow, y'might gotta help it," Kraglin yelled and, if Peter didn't know better, he'd swear the First Mate could see him at the top of the stack.

The first tug on the hose allowed his fingers to retract the wheel further than without assisting the effort. Peter quickly, and not nearly as diligently as he was supposed to, finished vacuuming the dust in the top half of the stack, flipping the bakkym off when only a few inches of the hose were left in his hand.

"Okay," Kraglin spoke normally inside his mask, "get y'rself down to where that other vent crosses. Careful, Pete."

"Y'know," Peter sighed, "I've been climbin' in vents like this for a few years now."

"Yeah, well," Kraglin said dryly, "you 'n I ain't got the best track record with heights."

Peter's leg offered a quick twinge as he remembered falling off the Frami, "Well, I'm payin' attention now," he assured the First Mate while releasing one of the grappling anchors.

"Thank the gods for that," Kraglin muttered.

Peter slowly repelled to where the vent split vertically, pausing his decline and reattaching the second anchor securely to the side. After ensuring the anchor was completely in place, Peter snapped a button on his belt and held his hand in the air, expertly catching the other anchor as it hurled at him from the top of the stack.

"Y'good?" Kraglin asked, the process had been rather loud in the hollow, metal tube.

"Fine," Peter wasn't bothering to hide his exasperation with being constantly second guessed.

He heard Kraglin sigh before saying, "It's up to you if y'wanna do that side vent now or when we get to the middle, but if y'wanna do it now, start there."

"Okay," Peter nodded, even though Kraglin couldn't see him, and started feeding the hose into the side vent, it stopped about three quarters of the way through, laying next to the decaying body of something that hadn't been very large when it was alive.

"You know what'cher doin'," Kraglin said dryly after a few moments of quiet and Peter rolled his eyes, flipping the bakkym on again.

After a feeble attempt to lift the hose, Peter just dragged it slowly back towards himself along the vent floor and decided the large debris was good enough, there would be more dust particles in there before they'd even finished anyway.

Peter didn't turn off the bakkym as the hose neared him and said, "Done!"

"Alright," Kraglin's voice crackled in his helmet, "hard part's over. Now the easiest way I think would just be to hold a short hose in front'a ya while y'r'comin' down, go side t'side like."

"I got it," Peter snapped, the hose already reeled in with a foot or so in one hand while the other fumbled with his grappling system, descending a bit faster than he probably should have.

"Slow down," Kraglin chided.

"I'm fine," Peter growled.

"Y'r'doin' a shitty job," Kraglin stated bitterly, crouching as he backed out of the stack.

Peter lifted his middle finger as the others stayed wrapped around the hose, but the First Mate missed his rude gesture.

Each of the three connecting vents had their own access closet and Peter followed Kraglin passed the center door to the opposite side, barely hearing him comment that it's a waste of time to do the larger, center ventilation system before the sides and completely tuning out the reason. Without waiting for directions, since he'd just done it, Peter began scaling the metal sides, ignoring the dull throbbing in his arms.

"Don't forget to check behind that cover," Kraglin called when Peter was nearly at the top.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Peter grumbled.

"Y'hear me Pete?" Kraglin asked louder, having apparently turned off his transmitter again to avoid the annoying echo.

"Yeah! I heard'ja!" Peter yelled, setting his anchors as he glanced through the slats of the vent cover.

There was something, not necessarily a dead animal, but a pile of small debris sat inside the vent cover. Momentarily, Peter debated if it was worth taking the cover off, but quickly decided it was not.

"Clear?" Kraglin called.

"Yeah!" Peter lied, but it was barely a lie.

Repeating the same process in the opposite stack took a little less time, though he had to slow down in the vertical vent attaching to the center because it had twice as many decaying skeletons as the other side. Kraglin didn't say anything when Peter repelled down at the same speed as he finished, but he couldn't miss the First Mate's scowl while heading to the middle, and final, stack.

"Y'r'welcome to do it if y'don't like how I am," Peter said accusingly.

"Actually, I'm not," Kraglin snapped, "I ain't even s'posed to be helpin' you."

Peter narrowed his eyes and spat, "Well, who asked ya to?"

Kraglin's eyebrows rose in surprise and Peter could see hurt in the creases on his forehead, but, despite the pang of guilt he felt, didn't apologize.

"Whatever," Kraglin scoffed, "we're almost done, let's just do it."

Peter nodded and followed him into the last access closet. The middle stack was much wider and a little taller than the two connecting to it and Peter sighed before starting his trek upwards. He had to take a break where the vertical vents split off, resting his knees inside one to alleviate the weight on his arms. Before he even reached the top, Peter saw the vent cover directly above him had a mass lying across the slats.

"The top cover's different on this one-" Kraglin began.

"I see," Peter interjected, just securing his first anchor at the very top of one side under the vent cover, thankful his mask filtered out smells as the rotting animal became clear, "Definitely somethin' dead up here."

"Good, I was worried that stink was you," Kraglin said dryly, "Alright, listen, y'r'gonna have t'get it outta there, but be careful, one side should come down pretty easy, but don't tear at it, the other one's sorta-"

"Kraglin!" Peter had started pulling at the cover while the First Mate had been giving instructions and was not expecting the spring-loaded launch that occurred from a much too hard tug.

His yelled followed the metal cover and animal corpse plunging down the stack, completed by a strangled scream and deafening clatter.

"Kraglin?!" Peter descended as fast he could, grunting when his grappling tethers stopped short of the ground, but quickly unclipped his belt, dropping the last few feet onto the metal cover across the tight space from the unconscious First Mate.

The long dead orloni laid in his lap like an ugly, sleeping cat while blood dripped down Kraglin's face, neck and onto his shoulders. Peter fell to his knees at the First Mate's side, tossing the corpse away before grabbing Kraglin's face in his hands.

"Shit," Peter breathed, relieved to find him alive, but terrified that he wasn't awake, and, needing help, Peter called frantically into his radio, "Yondu! Yondu! Kraglin's down, we're in the middle stack and-"

"Quill, calm down," the Captain's voice came over the intercom immediately, "What're y'sayin'?"

"Kraglin!" he tried to be clearer, but managed to be no less frantic, "He's hurt, Yondu! He got hit in the head 'n he's passed out"

"Where?" Yondu growled.

"Center stack unit!" Peter was shaking Kraglin gently, there was so much blood he couldn't see the source.

The radio went dead and Peter waited, trying desperately to get the First Mate to open his eyes. When heavy footsteps pounded nearby only minutes later, he sighed with relief. Kraglin's eyes fluttered open at the same time and Peter felt tension leave his body.

"Kraglin, Kraglin, you okay?" he asked, realizing it was a stupid question, but having no idea what else to say.

Kraglin expelled a pained breath, his right eye wasn't coated in blood, but shifted around without focus, "What happened?"

"Y'got hit in the head with the vent cover," Peter said.

"Vent?" Kraglin muttered, closing his eyes again.

"No, no, no," Peter was no expert, but he remembered enough from the movies he'd seen that it was never a good thing for someone with a head wound to close their eyes, "Hey, hey, stay with me, Krag, Yondu's coming."

"It's Cap'n," Kraglin's mumble was bitter.

"Yeah, the Captain, Yondu," Peter clarified.

"Should call him Capt'n," Kraglin said in a dazed tone, "but he'd never correct Pete."

"Krag?" Peter inclined his head, " _I'm_  Pete, I'm right here."

But Kraglin's muttering became inaudible and, Peter tried to shake him again when his eyelids fell, but the pounding stomps skidded outside the access hatch and Yondu's massive form crouched in the small opening. Peter heard others stop, but his focus was on the Captain and trying not to let his voice crack, Yondu always chastised him for being 'too emotional'.

"How's he doin', Quill?" Yondu asked, squinting his red eyes into the dark space, but unable to pull more than his upper body through the hatch.

"Out of it," Peter said, "C'mon, Krag, c'mon."

"Easy, Peter!" Yondu growled, "If somethin's broke y'r'gonna make it worse."

He took his hands off the First Mate immediately, staring at Yondu with fear behind his mask and wished the Captain would give him an order. But Yondu's attention moved up the vent, down to the cover Peter was crouched on and then locked on Peter's eyes behind the wide, red lenses.

"What happened?" he ground out, his teeth grinding together.

"The cover, it popped out too fast, I couldn't grab it-" Peter stammered.

"Kraglin knows that!" Yondu expressed with concerned anger.

"I, I didn't, he didn't tell me," nausea crept to the back of Peter's throat as the lie bumbled passed his lips.

"Kraglin!" Yondu yelled, "Kraglin, you hear me?"

Kraglin flickered his eyes in the direction of the Captain, but barely managed to open them more than halfway.

"A'right, we gotta move him," Yondu said, forcing himself as far into the opening as he could, "Watch his head, support his shoulders 'n neck, yeah, like that, good, son."

Peter's gut turned at Yondu's habitual endearment and Kraglin's face creasing in pain as they awkwardly shifted him to the opening. He saw Horuz's burly hands help Yondu pull Kraglin through, settling the First Mate gently on the floor, before crawling back into the access closet and shed the bakkym straps when it caught on the top of the opening. Peter's blood ran cold at the look Horuz gave him.

"The hell did you do?!" Horuz barked.

"Horuz!" Yondu rounded on him, "Don't you go puttin' this on him, he didn't know how that cover pops out 'n Kraglin weren't s'posed to be down here anyway!"

Horuz dropped his gaze, muttering apologetically to the Captain, and Peter felt worse. Cradling Kraglin's head and neck while Yondu and Horuz carefully lifted the First Mate from either side, Yondu directed them the fastest route to Kraglin's bedroom.

"Krag?" Peter saw his dazed eyes open.

"Pete," Kraglin whispered hoarsely, "What's goin' on? Why's Capt'n carryin' me?"

"I'm here too, kid," Horuz grumbled and Kraglin tried to drag his eyes to the other man, but Peter's grip on his skull wouldn't allow much movement, "Ya remember what happened?"

Peter's blood ran cold, waiting for the First Mate to tell them he'd arrogantly avoided listening to the orders he was given, but Kraglin squinted in labored remembrance.

Slowly, he said, "I was helping Pete 'n the Capt'n with the, the, navi-gation, thing."

"That was hours ago, Krag," Peter remarked, but bit his lips together when Horuz cleared his throat hard and scowled at him.

"D'ya remember me tellin' ya to have Peter clean the exhaust stacks?" Yondu asked.

Kraglin chuckled strangely, "Kid'a killed himself."

" _You_  nearly got y'rself killed," Yondu growled, though worry was obvious in his words, "Y'know that vent'll jump out at'cha."

Peter thought he might vomit.

Kraglin's eyes narrowed further as he mumbled, "What vent?"

Peter tried not to look surprised, but he was, and begrudgingly relieved.

"Boy's brains 'r scrambled," Horuz grimaced.

"He'll be fine," Yondu snapped, perhaps trying to convince himself as much as the other man.

Despite how hard he tried to keep them still, Peter's hands shook while all his effort went into supporting Kraglin's head, not caring at all about the blood dripping over his hand.

Yondu barked at every Ravager they passed. Tullk he ordered to get the medic kit, Gef was sent to get clean blankets and Gnaver was simply commanded to move as the recruit hovered near the Captain, trying to offer his unnecessary assistance. Peter didn't offer Gnaver the usual scowl to remind the newcomer how he felt about him, his focus entirely on keeping his steps even with Horuz and Yondu's.

"Gnaver!" Yondu bellowed as the ravager was nearly down the corridor, "Open this door!"

"Yessir!" Gnaver sprinted back to the group shuffling towards Kraglin's bedroom, practically falling through the doorway when he lurched it open, "What happened t'Kraglin there?"

"Go the hell away, Gnaver!" Peter exploded the moment Kraglin's head was safely resting on his pillow.

Gnaver looked shocked, shifting his eyes from Peter to the Captain with obvious expectations for him to scold Peter. But Yondu jerked his head roughly at the door.

"Y'heard him," the Captain growled.

Gnaver's eyebrows jumped, but he hastened out of the room and Yondu kicked the door shut loudly. Only to have it fly open a moment later as Gef and Tullk hurried in with their commanded items.

"Oi," Tullk grimaced at the sight of Kraglin's face, "What happened?"

"Standin' in the bottom of the stack when the vent cover popped off," Yondu said, taking the medic kit from Tullk.

"Poor, lad," Tullk shook his head, plucking the moistened towel from Gef absently and slowly began wiping blood from Kraglin's face.

"I told him he shouldn't've helped him," Horuz threw another nasty scowl at Peter while addressing the Captain.

"I didn't ask him to!" Peter shot back defensively.

"Bet'cha didn't bother to thank him either!" Horuz yelled.

"Get out! Both'a ya! NOW!" Yondu's raged bark made even Kraglin's dazed head jump from his pillow.

"Yondu, I-" Peter tried, but the Captain took a threatening step in his direction and Peter scurried from the room behind Horuz.

He stared at the door that slammed in his face, fear and guilt absorbing him, before turning to his own room across the hall, but Horuz's position directly behind him startled Peter into a retreating step.

"What'd you do?" he snarled, his beefy arms crossed over his chest.

"Screw you, Horuz, I didn't do shit," Peter shouldered passed the older Ravager, knocking him slightly off balance, but a distinct pang of guilt twisted his gut as he shut himself in his bedroom.

Kraglin's warning Peter had ignored echoed in his head while the vent cover repeatedly flew from his hand. Peter tried to shake the recent memories from his thoughts, but more guilt compiled at the mere consideration of avoiding what his arrogance had caused. Telling Yondu would be suicide, but, when Kraglin regained himself, the First Mate was sure to remember and tell the Captain what happened. Wouldn't he?

Peter paced his room, leaving his Walkman untouched on his dresser while listening for sounds in the hallway, specifically Yondu's overbearing voice, but he didn't hear anything for what felt like hours. Tullk's affirmative response broke the long silence finally and Peter leapt for the door, tearing it open just as the Captain was shutting Kraglin's.

"Yondu?" Peter made his voice loud enough to be heard, while pathetic enough to invoke sympathy.

"Yeah, Quill?" Yondu was much calmer, but his face wore an expression of exhausted concern.

"How's Kraglin?" he asked, afraid of the answer and his stomach flipped when Yondu sighed.

"I'm not sure," Yondu admitted, "He's in 'n out, only makin' sense for a few minutes. Got his face stitched up, boy's lucky he didn't lose an eye, but he'll have a few nasty scars."

Peter's throat tightened, but he managed, "Can I do anything?"

Yondu grinned a little, "As long as y'r'not hollerin' I'm sure he wouldn't mind'ja bein' in here."

His insides turned so hard Peter was sure he would vomit, but, to avoid Yondu's suspicion, he warily walked across the hall.

Kraglin was bare chested under the blanket, his head propped up a bit, but momentarily unconscious. Wiped clean of blood, his wounds were obvious and Peter cringed at the gashes along one side of the First Mate's face, held closed with metal sutures. His left eye was swollen, but thankfully intact, and a bloodied, purple lump protruded through his hairline above it. The nausea Peter had before walking in the room was nothing compared to the sickness he felt looking at Kraglin while an obviously nervous Yondu watched.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Peter asked, again dreading the response.

"We're takin' him to Xandar," Yondu avoided the question skillfully.

Peter nodded and didn't push for an answer.

"Xandar," Kraglin's faded comment stole their attention and Peter stepped closer to the bed, trying not to grimace at the painful slices on the First Mate's face.

"Yeah, son, gonna have the Healers take a look at'cha," Yondu said somberly.

"I'm fine, Capt'n," Kraglin said very unconvincingly since his undamaged eye was straining to focus on the Captain, but his words were at least sensible and coherent.

"Y'r'not," Yondu scoffed.

"Sir, really-" Kraglin began, trying to push himself into a full sitting position.

"Lay y'r'ass down!" Yondu snapped, pointing firmly at Kraglin who slowly reclined to his pillow, and turned to Peter with a stern command, "Stay with him."

Peter nodded, his mouth dry, and the Captain shut the door behind him, leaving Peter alone with Kraglin and the guilt that was crushing him.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, knowing it wasn't enough, but Kraglin looked curiously at him.

"What're y'sorry for?" he asked.

"Y'know," Peter shrugged, "That vent cover-"

Kraglin nodded in understanding, "That's what Capt'n said, I can't remember it truthfully, bit's 'n pieces before we went in the stacks," he sighed heavily and looked earnestly at the young man, his swollen eyelid fluttered sickeningly, "Man, Pete, I can't believe I forgot to tell ya 'bout that one, I swear the only reason I was helpin' was 'cause I know how finicky them covers can be," he expelled a short, disheartened laugh, "Some help I was."

Peter felt hot vomit creeping up his throat, but swallowed hard against it and said, "No, Krag, it wasn't, you didn't," he sighed, hating himself when the words wouldn't pass his lips, instead he finished with another lie, "It just happened."

"Least it didn't happen to you," Kraglin's comment managed to make Peter feel even worse, hating the tingle in his nose and tightness in his throat.

"Why?" his voice cracked a bit, sitting carefully on the edge of Kraglin's bed.

Kraglin smiled at him, more with the undamaged side than the bloodied, swollen corner of his lips, and said, "I weren't much to look at anyway, least now I'll have some scars t'make me look tough, but you," he expelled a short laugh, "Can't ruin that pretty face, y'ain't got enough brains t'make up for bein' ugly."

Peter tried to laugh with the First Mate, but knew the attempt failed when Kraglin narrowed his eyes with confused concern.

"Sorry, I'm just worried about'cha," Peter shrugged and Kraglin's one good eye dampened with appreciation, making Peter wish the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"I'm f-f-fine, P-pee-" the First Mate's face tensed strangely as the words sputtered on his lips.

"Kraglin?" Peter leapt to his feet, his hands unsure what to do as Kraglin's good eye rolled upward while his arms and legs spasmed, "Kraglin!"

He didn't care that a sob broke his frantic yell, sprinting to the door with his eyes on Kraglin shaking uncontrollably under his blanket and tore it open.

"YONDU!"

Without waiting to hear if the Captain was coming, he had no doubts about that, Peter slid to a hurried halt next to Kraglin's bed. The First Mate's quaking seemed to have calmed, but he considered he was just being hopeful, only finding small relief when Yondu appeared, panting through the doorway.

"I don't know what to do," Peter felt tears slipping down his cheeks, but managed to keep his voice fairly steady as he addressed the man, thankful when Yondu grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and pushed him away from Kraglin's bed.

But the Captain didn't seem to know what to do any better than Peter had, his blue hands hovering near the First Mate hesitantly. Peter peered around Yondu's shoulder, Kraglin's spasms were slowing and Peter sighed when he stopped flailing all together. It was several long moments he and the Captain stood there in silent terror before the First Mate's eyes fluttered and the undamaged one found them with dazed focus.

"Are you okay?" Peter burst, only just realizing his fingers had twisted tightly into the leather of Yondu's jacket and quickly shook them free.

"Wha-" Kraglin's word finished incomplete and his eyes fell shut again.

"No y'don't, boy," Yondu shook him gently by the shoulders, lightly slapping the side of his face that wasn't twice it's normal size, "C'mon, Kraglin, c'mon, son."

Peter wiped tears from his cheeks and thought his legs would give out from the guilt crushing down on him while Yondu's voice cracked in pain.

"Quill," Yondu kept his eyes on Kraglin as he jerked his head at the door, "I got it on autopilot, but we should be close to the jump for Xandar, put us down as close to the sanatorium as y'can."

"Yes, sir," Peter sniffed hard and left for the command room immediately.

He'd never jumped the Eclector alone, he'd certainly never landed it without Kraglin's help, but there was no room for Peter to doubt himself. He was a great pilot, Kraglin and Yondu had seen to that, and there was no other option besides success. Kraglin was lying in and out of consciousness, seizing and would live the rest of his life with the burden of nasty scars along the left side of his face. And it was Peter's fault. The vent cover fell again in his mind while Kraglin's warning wouldn't leave his ears, interrupted repeatedly by his pained cry.

He would get Kraglin to the hospital and hope that alleviated some of his guilt. Peter hated himself a little for being relieved that Kraglin didn't remember what happened, but it wouldn't do any good to remind him, not to mention the beating Yondu would give him if he knew why the cover really plummeted onto the First Mate's head. Or it might be the one time the Captain finally just ate him like he'd promised for years, for once, Peter knew he'd deserve it.

_**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! You guys keep this going and have been the driving motivation for my novel! Thank you for your constant support and for being so appreciative of what I'm doing here =) Can't wait to hear your thoughts!** _


	36. How Deep the Scars Go (Part 3/4)

_**PART 3/4 Yondu** _

_**Thank you all for your support of this and my novel! It's been so inspiring to hear how many of you are looking forward to it =)** _

_**Here is our Captain's side of this mess, coming up next is the conclusion and will be a mix of Peter, Kraglin and Yondu's perspectives** _

"Maybe you shouldn't've abducted me then!" Quill's raging eyes bore into Yondu's with no fear and the Captain was sure he'd been punched in the gut too, trying to keep the pain from his face as he watched his boy storm out of the command room.

"I'll talk to him when I'm done," he could hear frustration in Kraglin's voice, the constant peace keeper was clearly nearing the end of his rope.

"Don't. He'll cool off." Yondu ordered simply, knowing if it wasn't a command to leave the brat alone Kraglin would interject himself, he probably would anyway.

It wasn't a secret he treated Quill differently than the rest of his crew, but Yondu had made serious changes to his leniency since the kid he'd picked up on Terra had grown even bulkier than some of the Ravagers. He was proud of Peter's strength and size, of course, and his intelligence, the kid was smarter than him even, but he wasn't proud of his mouth. That boy would go head-to-head with Yondu over the smallest thing and Yondu had decided, especially after the incident on Darbia, that enough was enough. Whether he accepted it or not, Yondu was not going to let Quill off easy, not anymore.

"Alright, Capt'n," Kraglin dragged Yondu from his daze, pushing the cover towards the base of the console, "Should be good."

He secured the top with a snap, immediately turning on the navigation module and checking the maps sequencing and saved travel routes, nodding with satisfaction before sliding down on the holographic screen, making it disappear in the air.

"He, uh," Kraglin's quiet stammer began his usual defense of Peter, "he did almost have it right though, sir."

Yondu grunted, guilt twisting his gut, but if the damn kid had just kept his head on when Yondu had questioned him about what he was doing he wouldn't have to make an example of his behavior, but the Captain had promised himself he'd put a stop to the outbursts and growled, "Put him on the exhaust stacks, can't remember the last time they been cleaned."

"Sir?" Kraglin's eyes widened.

"He needs to remember I ain't takin' his crap no more," Yondu said firmly, "Tell 'em I want 'em sparklin', I don't care if I ain't ever gonna check or not."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin said, but the Captain was already disappearing into his quarters.

With the door shut firmly behind him, Yondu shrugged off his long, red jacket, tossing it over the back of his sofa as he strode to his desk and gripped the edges, letting his head droop with exhaustion. Every argument he and Peter had left him more tired and angry, wishing the stubborn kid would just stop with the defensive attitude and attacking him every time Yondu gave him an order.  _Maybe you shouldn't've abducted me then!_  His boy sure knew how to cut him down and the Captain sighed.

Things had gotten a little better, after their conversation following the worst licking he'd ever given Peter, but it hadn't taken long for the sulky teenager to fall back into his disrespectful attitude. Yondu wouldn't be talked to like that, he couldn't, there had already been moments throughout the years where other crew members had given him lip, the Ravagers he'd allowed a second chance never stepped out of line again. He knew there was disgruntlement within the ranks, but, when the story of Peter's tryst in his bedroom spread, Yondu at least saw satisfaction in their smirks every time the kid stiff-legged passed them in the halls. Quill might hate him for being a relentless hard-ass, but Yondu was balancing a narrow line trying to keep his crew content and Quill's feelings couldn't sway him from being a firm leader.

Was the kid really still upset about being taken off Terra, though? Yondu tried not to think about it. He definitely wasn't going to tell Quill why he was safer moving around the galaxies than stagnant on his home planet, but, far beneath his well-established disinterest, Yondu hoped Peter was trying to make him feel bad and didn't actually long for barbaric rock in the center of the Milky Way. It was fruitless for the Captain to try ridding himself of Peter's words, echoing in his head for hours. Until, suddenly, the boy's frantic yell crackled through Yondu's intercom.

"Quill, calm down," Yondu interjected into the staticky rambling, "What're y'sayin'?"

"Kraglin!" Peter's voice broke with obvious terror, "He's hurt, Yondu! He got hit in the head 'n he's passed out"

Yondu's chest contracted painfully, hating hearing Peter that terrified and sure Kraglin had to be badly injured to induce that fear, he managed a low growl, "Where?"

"Center stack unit!" Yondu heard the tears as Peter nearly screamed their location and was bolting down the corridor in the same moment.

"Horuz!" he barked, passing the Ravager who was just about to enter the mess hall for lunch, but Hourz didn't hesitate, or ask questions, and started hurrying after the Captain.

As Yondu skidded to a halt in front of the open access panel to the maintenance level, however, Horuz panted an inquiry, "What's, hap'nin'?"

"Kraglin's hurt," Yondu said simply, sliding down the ladder.

"What?!" Horuz exploded, taking a few rungs quickly before just jumping to the floor, groaning a bit as he pushed himself to stand upright, slowly.

Yondu didn't pay attention, already moving down the hall towards the air system closets, his mind trained on the middle one, visualizing the dark, dusty tunnel in his mind. Blood pounded in his ears with every heavy step, anger overcoming his thoughts, berating himself for giving Peter such a dangerous, and useless, job. Of course Kraglin would help him! He'd told Kraglin to tell Peter with the silent understanding that the First Mate wouldn't make the kid do it alone. Some captain he was.

"Capt'n, hold," Horuz heaved behind him, sprinting, or at least what sprinting was for Horuz, down the hall.

"C'mon, Horuz," Yondu slowed, but only a moment, continuing his rapid pace the moment Horuz caught up.

Quill was shaking over Kraglin in the vent when Yondu forced as much of himself through the access hatch as he could. Even with the mask on, he could see the fear his kid was staring at him with, begging Yondu to fix it.

Kraglin was alive, at least there was that, but his barely coherent and nonsensical ramblings all the way to his bedroom hadn't been reassuring. The Captain was in disbelief of his injury, of all the things he was worried about happening in the stacks, the potential for both of them to get sucked into space if someone accidently turned it on for instance, the vent cover hadn't even crossed his mind. Kraglin knew that, hell, Kraglin had been the one to realize the thing shot out like a cannon if the wrong side was tugged. Yondu hated himself, furious he'd sent them on such a pointless job, and, every moment he looked at Kraglin's bloodied face, the Captain's anger burned deeper.

He gave orders, answering Tullk's questions as calmly as possible while the rest of his thoughts remained in a self-deprecating cycle. But, when Horuz and Quill started in on each other, all of Yondu's anger at himself exploded towards them. The Captain rarely saw the kid look as scared as when he took one step at the beginning of Quill's refusal, and he certainly hadn't seen him scurry away like that in years.

Silently, he and Tullk tried to keep Kraglin's focus, though his confusion was still evident and hardly mumbled anything sensible. Yondu couldn't help a stifled chuckle when Kraglin muttered 'doesn't listen, brat never listened' and only needed one guess to know who the First Mate was grumbling about.

"Capt'n?" Kraglin's weak, but coherent, voice reached his ears and broke Yondu's heart.

"I'm here, son," he turned to the bed, internally berating himself for using the endearment when he had no right, but, Kraglin curled his fingers in a silent request to sit, and Yondu wouldn't begrudge him.

"Hey, boyo," Tullk hardly more than whispered, "How y'feelin'?"

"My head hurts," Kraglin said, squinting his eyes at Yondu, "Capt'n, I'm sorry-"

"Stop right there, Kraglin," Yondu said firmly, putting a gentle hand on the young man's uninjured shoulder, "Y'ain't got anything to be sorry about."

"But, I'm busted," Kraglin grimaced apologetically, wincing in pain as he did so and Yondu's heart stabbed him again.

"Y'r'gonna be fine," he promised, hoping it was true, "I'm getting' you t'Xandar-"

"No, Capt'n I'm fi-"

Yondu interjected with a hard laugh, "Far from it, boy. Y'r'goin' to the sanatorium, don't argue."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin tried to nod, stopping short as he cringed with pain.

"Lemme finish gettin' that blood off ya," Tullk tried to scoot around the bed, but the Captain's large frame on the edge of the mattress gave him almost no room.

"I got it, Tullk," Yondu took a blood stained washcloth from the shaggy-haired man and rang it out over the bowl on the First Mate's nightstand, "Make sure everybody's doin' what they should be, we're droppin' in on Xandar as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir. Do y'need me t'bring y'anythin', Cap?" Tullk asked, balling up the shredded, bloody shirt he'd carefully sliced from Kraglin's chest while backing towards the door.

"No," Yondu said simply, wiping the cloth as carefully as he could along Kraglin's hairline, "Just take all those bloody towels with ya."

"Aye, Cap," Tullk was already piling red stained towels and washcloths in his arms, but fumbled repeatedly for the door handle he couldn't see.

Yondu sighed, standing from the bed with a quick press to Kraglin's chest, promising he'd be right back, and pushed the door open for the Ravager.

"Make sure they're ready to go," Yondu said.

"Yes, sir, thank you," Tullk sidestepped through the door, hurrying down the hall.

Yondu was just closing it again, when the door across the hall ripped open.

"Yondu?" Quill sounded desperate and Yondu stopped, staring at the nervous teenager in his open doorway.

"Yeah, Quill?" Yondu stifled his exhausted sigh, seeing how much pain the kid was in and didn't want him to feel worse.

"How's Kraglin?" Peter's question was laced with fear.

"I'm not sure," he sighed, "He's in 'n out, only makin' sense for a few minutes. Got his face stitched up, boy's lucky he didn't lose an eye, but he'll have a few nasty scars."

Quill's expression crumpled, "Can I do anything?"

Yondu couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face, "As long as y'r'not hollerin' I'm sure he wouldn't mind'ja bein' in here."

Quill slowly stepped out of his room, nervously approaching the Captain, his eyes glued to the floor in Kraglin's room. Yondu felt the dark cloud of dread surrounding Peter as he passed the threshold, shutting the door behind them and watching the kid's shoulders tense at the sight of the First Mate.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Peter seemed to be begging more than asking.

Yondu couldn't lie to him, Peter would know, and settled for the only truth he had, "We're takin' him to Xandar."

Peter nodded, the corners of his mouth flexing as if he wanted to say something, but stopped himself.

"Xandar," Kraglin stole their attention and Yondu felt a tiny bit of relief, every coherent word his First Mate spoke was reassuring.

"Yeah, son, gonna have the Healers take a look at'cha," Yondu said.

"I'm fine, Capt'n," Kraglin tried, grimacing again when he tried to turn his head to look at the Captain out of his good eye.

"Y'r'not," Yondu was getting dangerously close to losing his temper, hating himself more with every attempt Kraglin made to seem fine, knowing it was his constant pressure causing the First Mate's need to prove rigidity.

"Sir, really-" Kraglin started trying to push himself into a sitting position and Yondu snapped.

"Lay y'r'ass down!" he barked, pointing an angry finger at Kraglin that was intended for himself, shifting it quickly to Peter with the order, "Stay with him."

Yondu hardly waited for Peter to nod, leveling Kraglin with a threatening gaze as he shut the door, burying his face in his hands the moment he ensured the hallway was clear. With a heavy sigh, blinking his eyes several times until the moisture dissipated, Yondu stalked towards the command room.

The navigation module pulled up immediately and he cursed himself for the fight that started the entire mess, the damn kid had been doing it right! Settling into his chair, the Captain's fingers flew on the holographic screen, finding the fastest course to Xandar from where they were. Three jumps. Two is they went through Kree territory, but that was near suicide. Kraglin needed to get to the sanatorium as quickly as possible, though, and Yondu's finger hovered over the command choices to start the auto-pilot assist program.

"YONDU!"

Peter's broken scream forced his hand and, in his own terror, the Captain decided they needed to get to Xandar as fast as they possibly could, despite the potential consequences. The Captain leapt from his chair as he slammed his finger on the route and bolted down the hall, skidding to halt as he threw Kraglin's door open.

Peter stood near the bed with tears streaming down his face while Kraglin convulsed in his bed. Yondu's body shivered and his blood ran cold in his veins as terror he'd never known swept him.

"I don't know what to do," Peter kept his voice impressively steady while Yondu no less than threw him to the side.

He'd only seen it once before, a fellow Kree slave, but their masters' solution was to simply kill the ailing Interdite after his second fit. Apparently, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence in their species, at least according to the last Interdite in Yondu's regiment, who he'd watched try to protect the younger man from the Kree as well as himself while he'd flailed unconsciously on a barren, dungeon floor. Yondu held his hands over Kraglin like he'd seen the older Interdite do, before the Kree ripped him away, making sure, at the very least, that Kraglin didn't hurt himself.

His spasms slowed, thankfully, stopping almost abruptly and it felt, to the Captain, like an eternity before Kraglin's eyes worked their way open. Yondu thought for a moment he'd sunken into the floor as tension released every muscle.

"Are you okay?" Peter's question came with a tug on the Captain's jacket, feeling a pang of guilt, wishing he'd realized the kid was holding onto him, another twist of remorse churned his gut remembering how he'd thrown Peter roughly to the side, but, quickly, his focus returned to Kraglin.

"Wha-" he was obviously incoherent and Yondu felt every ounce of tense fear returned as his First Mate's eyes closed again.

"No y'don't, boy," terror overtook the Captain's actions, shaking his boy by the shoulders and at least reserving his strength in the slaps he landed on his uninjured cheek, "C'mon, Kraglin, c'mon, son."

"Quill," Yondu knew his voice was breaking with the tightness in his throat, but his concern was on his First Mate, not his pride, "I got it on autopilot, but we should be close to the jump for Xandar, put us down as close to the sanatorium as y'can."

"Yes, sir," Peter sniffled hard, but his tone hardened in his response and he dashed from the room.

"C'mon, boy," he returned to shaking Kraglin gently before the door latched, "You answer me, Kraglin. Kraglin Obfonteri, you open your damn eyes right now!"

Kraglin's eyes fluttered open, obviously trying with all his strength to focus on the Captain, there just wasn't much there to utilize and they fell closed again as he slumped against the pillow. Yondu knew tears had leaked down his cheeks, but he didn't care enough to wipe them away, keeping his hands gently on his First Mate, trying desperately to get a reaction.

"Son, please," dipping his head over Kraglin's chest, Yondu cried.

Terror, guilt and self-hatred blended into a hot mix of nausea at the back of his throat, but Yondu swallowed hard against the discomfort, refusing to leave his boy. He was so helpless and battered, reminding the Captain of their first meeting when Kraglin had been blacking out from Matbua strangling him.

Horuz's yell had alerted the Captain to the kitchen, finding his tentacled chef choking a boy as he'd beaten Horuz away with his other extremities, but, at Yondu's bark to halt, Matbua grumbled and released his victims while backing into the corner of the pantry. Yondu hadn't paid any attention to his grumblings, Matbua had a kitchen pass since nobody but the Captain understood him, and Yondu preferred to keep his food free of whatever kind of saliva Matbua produced. But, approaching on Horuz, he'd found the man cradling the boy tenderly, slapping his face to revive him. It had taken a moment, but Kraglin's eyes had opened, tearing immediately at the Captain. He'd had to give the boy credit, however, for not outright sobbing in his presence, but Yondu could tell, even in that moment of vulnerability, Kraglin was as tough as they came. He'd told the scrawny teenager he'd drop him off on their next stop, but Horuz had believed the threat and outright begged him to let Kraglin stay. Obviously, Yondu had had to beat the man, considering his public groveling, but had agreed to keep Kraglin until the kid inevitably screwed up, which Yondu had hoped wouldn't happen.

It hadn't. And he stared at his First Mate, years older, but still the boy he'd tried to hardened his heart to. Yondu's chest burst and he couldn't stop the sob that burst passed his lips, thankful he was alone, but willing to let his whole crew watch him weep if it would open Kraglin's eyes.

"Cap," his voice was so small, Yondu thought he was imagining it until he looked up at Kraglin, his eyes hardly slits.

Yondu sighed, "By gods boy, y'had me scared to death."

"I'm tired, Cap," Kraglin's words were still barely audible, but Yondu nodded.

"I know, son," he said, "but I need'ja to stay with me."

"Y'got, Pete," he whispered and Yondu furrowed his brow.

"What?" he tried to maintain a civil tone, but the pain in chest lurched.

"Nothin'," Kraglin muttered.

"No, what'd you say, Kraglin?" Yondu almost snapped, instantly hated himself more.

But Kraglin's eyes widened and almost focused on the Captain's, "I'm sorry, sir," he grimaced, "I don't remember."

Yondu expelled a breath, "Y'r'scarin' me good, Krag."

"I'm sorry, sir," he repeated.

"Shut up with the I'm sorrys," Yondu insisted more brutally than he intended, softening his tone as he admitted, " _I'm sorry_. I shouldn't've put ya in that position with Pete, but I know you know about that goddamn hatch, I can't believe you didn't, I'm not, mad at'cha, just surprised, I guess. I'm mad at myself if-"

"Capt'n?" Kraglin tried to interject.

"No, really," Yondu shook his head and continued, "I knew you'd help Quill with that job, that's partly why I told you to tell him to do it," he shook his head at himself, "I shouldn't've even been fightin' with him to begin with, you were right, 'bout that module, 'n I don't, jeezus, son, how you forgot to mention that damn vent is beyond, just," he sighed, "I just want ya to be okay, son."

Kraglin smiled with the side of his face that wasn't scraped in bloody stripes, "I will, sir, I'm-"

Kraglin expelled a pained gasp and Yondu braced himself against the bed and nightstand when the ship jerked.

"Uh, Yondu?" Peter crackled over his intercom.

"Quill?" Yondu barked, just remembering the navigation route he'd set, "Where are we?"

"We're inside Big Maggie, sir," Peter somehow sounded more determined than afraid, "Hold onto Krags. I got this."

Yondu's pained chest had a momentary swelling of pride, at Peter's words, but gripped his First Mate firmly to the bed as the Eclector shook violently.

The Large Magellanic Cloud was Kree territory and, while they wouldn't recognize the ship, Yondu still felt an old sense of terror looming. He hadn't had contact with the Kree since Stakar liberated his regiment and offer the now Captain a spot in his ranks, but twenty years of torture would never leave his memories, no matter how far he ran from them.

The Eclector lurched again, but a loud, confident laugh echoed outside the door, "You wanna play asshole? I'll play!"

Sometimes Peter's confidence scared him, but Yondu had never felt more sure of the cocky young man as he heard his radio crackle.

"Horuz! Retch! Tazerface! Get on the guns!" Peter ordered.

"I don't take orders from you,  _boy_ ," Tazerface sneered through the intercom and the Captain's ears burned with anger.

"YOU GIT ON THOSE GUNS RIGHT NOW!" Yondu barked, "AND WHATEVER ELSE QUILL TELLS YA TO DO! Y'HEAR ME?!"

"Ye-yes, sir," Tazerface stammered, but the Captain heard his feet pounding over the radio, "On-on it."

"Get us outta here, Quill," Yondu said simply.

"Yes, sir."

"Hold on, Krag," Yondu whispered after his First Mate whimpered in pain from another, aggressive shudder of the ship.

Kraglin didn't respond, but bit his lips against another cry of pain and Yondu felt his heart crack again, wishing he could take all the pain from his boy on himself.

"Haha YEAH!" Peter's shout blared over the radio and echoed down the hall, "Don't mess with the Ravager's! Git 'em again Retch!"

Yondu didn't put faith in gods, the one he'd had experience with was certainly not the type to answer anyone's prayers but his own. Therefore, praying seemed a stretch, and the Captain didn't have a specific deity in mind as his thoughts begged for an escape. The ship quaked again, followed warning alarms erupting throughout the Eclector and Peter came back on the radio.

"Yondu, we're almost out!" he yelled over the horns, "But they hit the coolant tank, we're sprayin'!"

"Pete?" the Captain cleared his throat to keep his voice from cracking, but Peter interjected with reassurance.

"I'll bring us in, it's gonna be a little rough!" Peter promised, "Just worry about Kraglin, I got this."

"Good boy," Yondu said to himself, putting more gentle pressure on Kraglin to keep him from rocking too much in his bed.

A sharp pull was a welcomed jolt, knowing Peter had made the jump out of Big Maggie and they were nearly to Xandar, safely away from the Kree's war zone. But the Eclector still shivered while alarms blared in every room and coolant poured into the frozen abyss. Yondu found himself praying again to any god that would listen, hoping the back up pressurizer held on at least until they entered Xandar's atmosphere or the entire ship would blow.

"C'mon, Quill, get us there," he muttered.

"Yondu!" Peter's excited yell broke on the radio, "Xandar straight ahead!"

A few stray tears of relief leaked from the Captain's eyes and he hid his face carefully in the blanket covering Kraglin.

"Y'r'gonna be alright, son," he promised.

"Aye, Cap," Kraglin's voice was weak, but he wrapped his fingers around Yondu's with a slight squeeze and Yondu held firmly onto his First Mate.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, boy," Yondu's vow earned a barely noticeable head nod and Kraglin's eyes fell closed again, causing a frantic call into his radio, "Quill! Where we at?!"

"Seven clicks to the atmosphere!" Peter answered immediately, "How's Kraglin?"

"Alive," Yondu grumbled, holding tightly to the First Mate's hand.

"Hold on," Peter's order was followed by a powerful lurch in the ship and a loud, explosion like boom.

Yondu didn't have the opportunity to bark an inquiry over the sound before Peter returned to the radio.

"Uh, Yondu," his confidence had faltered, "I think we lost quadrant two's coolant tank."

"Get us planet-side, Quill," was all the Captain could say, uncaring about the cost of a new tank if his crew, and especially First Mate, just made it safely to Xandar's surface.

_**Thank you for reading and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!** _


	37. How Deep the Scars Go (part 4/4)

**_Part 4/4 Peter, Yondu, Peter, Kraglin_ **

**_First of all, this is a REALLY long, detailed and involved chapter, forgive me, this isn't what pays my bills so it cannot always be the focus of my world. Second, everybody can thank Ravensnight and Ponygirl for this update not being spitefully held onto for another week or more. Little about me, you don't like what I've written, I can take hate, hell, I love a little well thought out, viable hate, but you swear and yell at me thinking it's cute or something? Buddy, we're not friends. What kind of rude person never reviews or comments on a story until suddenly they're screaming for an update? How about a word on the 130k words you just binged through? Nope. Screw me, right? Well, here y'go, the computer just shit out another chapter…_ **

Alarms were sounding everywhere and every screen in front of Peter was flashing, but Peter kept pushing one after another out of his view, focusing solely on the growing planet ahead. He could only pray he was coming in on the side of Xandar near the city and sanatorium, unable to check the navigation screen through all the warnings. He'd watched Yondu descend on the planet enough times, not to mention the one time he and Kraglin, mostly Kraglin, had emergency landed on the outskirts of Xandar's most populated area. Now Peter was doing it alone, with more distractions than even a simulator could have thought up, but failure wasn't an option.

Xandar's atmosphere pulled the ship through and Peter heard a nasty pop just as the flashing screens in front of him disappeared. Everything shut down with a discharging hum and the Eclector's entire, massive bulk floated sickeningly a moment before plummeting towards the ground.

Peter's heart sank and raced all at once, slapping the console in front of him frantically while his head pressed hard against the back of the Captain's chair.

"WORK YOU PIECE'A SHIT!" Peter screeched and slammed both fists down, almost not believing the flicker of light and energizing buzz that followed.

"See Fonzi do that," Peter muttered proudly, jiggling the controls and yanking back the second he felt tension gripping the air brakes.

"Pete?!" Yondu's frantic voice broke over his radio.

"I got it, Yondu!" Peter yelled happily, whooping a bit and jumping in the seat, "Comin' in right over town."

"Better slow down, Quill," he growled.

"Yes, sir," Peter agreed wholeheartedly, "I'm workin' on it."

His arms shook, forcing the brakes as hard as he could, harder even, and, finally, the Eclector leveled out and the alarm flashed to release the landing equipment. Peter kicked the release control with his foot, not willing to give up an ounce of power he had on the shaky brakes. Much less gently than it was used to, and with a sickening crunch, the Eclector landed in the large concrete field just outside the Xandarian metropolis.

"Nice job, Quill," Yondu sighed over the radio.

"Thank you, sir," Peter swelled momentarily with pride, then remembered why they'd had to make such a dangerous stop, "How's Kraglin?"

"Holdin' up," Yondu said, "Get back here."

Peter was already on his way and pushed into the First Mate's room just seconds later, guilt flooding his gut seeing Kraglin hardly conscious and Yondu's puffy eyes land on him. The Captain never cried, yet his normally hard gaze glistened with fear.

"Get y'r'ship ready," Yondu's order was subdued, "We gotta get as close to that sanatorium as we can."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded and bolted towards the hangar, hearing the Captain call for Horuz and Tullk to help him move Kraglin.

Peter turned the Milano on, readying the engines and navigation module for the fastest route to the sanatorium, then jumped down the ladder to toss everything cluttering the bunk into whatever drawer he could fit it. He'd just shoved a half eaten, molding bag of zargnuts under the mattress when the Captain's heavy steps echoed on the hatch ramp.

"Ready, Quill?" Yondu asked, directing Horuz and Tullk to the bed with the First Mate they were carrying in a tightly held sheet.

Peter's throat tightened when Kraglin whimpered painfully as they laid him on the bunk and he turned up the ladder, dropping hard into the driver's seat. Yondu appeared a moment later, settling into the seat next to Peter.

"I'll tell ya the quickest way there," the Captain said, no less than slapping the navigation screen into nothingness, "Just get as close to them emergency doors as y'can."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded, pushing forward on the controls as Yondu's head jerk towards the opening doors.

Yondu's directions were certainly faster than the navigation program would have offered, considering half the maneuvers he'd had Peter make were illegal. But they arrived at the sanatorium in what Peter imagined was record time and he followed Yondu down the ladder. Horuz and Tullk were already gently lifting Kraglin from the bunk and Peter lowered the hatch ramp after a quick nod from Yondu.

The Captain must have called the Healers ahead of time, because three came rushing to the Milano as they descended the ramp. The stretcher they brought was helpful, though Horuz and Tullk looked deflated of their use as the First Mate floated into the large building with the Captain and Peter striding behind while the Healers led the way.

Peter tried not to listen as Yondu kept every answer to their questions short and deprived of information, Kraglin had had an accident while performing a normal, on-board task, that was it. Kraglin's attempted warning, followed by the launching vent cover and his horrible, pained screeched kept cycling Peter's thoughts, knowing damn well he should tell the Captain, but the idea was too terrifying to even entertain.

* * *

How Quill had managed to get through Kree territory and land a damaged ship with impressive accuracy was beyond Yondu, but the part of him that wasn't shaking with fear over Kraglin was swelling with pride over Peter. The coolant tank wasn't his fault and would be an easy fix considering coolant tanks were generally generic to ship connections, he wouldn't even have to deal with that jackass, Saman. Overall, it could have been much worse, at least for the ship, but the Captain watched the Healers expressions carefully as they led Kraglin into an emergency bay.

After a few short answers they stopped pushing Yondu for information, hopefully noticing the irritation setting in the Captain's jaw, and set to work hooking Kraglin up to several machines. One of them started beeping the moment it was turned on and Yondu saw Peter start to shake out of the corner of his eye. Not just a quick shiver, the boy's knees practically knocked together and Peter wrapped his arms around himself only briefly before forcing them to his sides and locking eyes with Yondu.

"We need to get a look at his injuries and stabilize him," one of the Healers gestured the door.

"They gotta help him," Quill whispered as the Captain grab his shoulder and led him out of the room.

"They're gonna, Pete," Yondu assured him, throwing a threatening look at the bustling medical professionals, hoping they understood how serious he was about that statement.

For a little while, they paced the hallway near the emergency bay Kraglin laid in. Well, Yondu paced, Peter sat slumped back in a chair with his headphones blaring on his ears and his eyes shut. He watched the young man, seeming much younger with fear paling his handsome face, and the Captain found his fingers grasping at his sides, wanting to put a hand on the boy, to reassure him Kraglin would be alright.

But Yondu couldn't do it. He couldn't promise something he wasn't sure of himself and had no idea what his next move would be after attempting a comforting touch on the kid. Quill would certainly shrug him off anyway, that was Yondu's fault, he'd taught him to be strong at all times, never show weakness, and here the young man sat, stone faced and silent, exactly as he'd been raised.

"Capt'n?" Tullk said tentatively as he and Horuz approached in the hallway.

"They ain't told us nothin' yet, boys," Yondu sighed.

"What's he doin'?" Horuz scoffed bitterly towards Peter, eyes still shut, music still blaring on his ears.

"Ain't y'r'concern," Yondu growled and Horuz's eyes found the floor.

"You want us to stay, sir?" Tullk asked quickly, bringing the Captain's attention to him.

"No reason," he shook his head, "Better get on findin' a new coolant tank anyway."

"Made a few calls," Tullk shrugged, "Havin' one delivered to the tarmac," Yondu's eyebrows jumped in surprise, but the Ravager just shrugged again and said, "Seemed like somethin' the kid would'a done," his sad eyes glanced in the direction of the emergency bays.

Yondu nodded, it did seem like something Kraglin would have thought to do.

A Healer walked out of Kraglin's room, his expression completely neutral, which somehow made Yondu even more nervous than if he'd looked nervous, folks often looked nervous around him. But the man smirked and took a deep breath before addressing the Captain, who walked a little distance from his crew's ears and allowed the man to lead him to a tall counter.

"He's sustained a nasty head injury," the Healer began, "We have him under medical sedation now, but we'll need to drill a hole in his skull to relieve the pressure."

"Pressure, drill a, you wanna do what?!" Yondu sputtered.

"Sir," the Healer said calmly, "It's our best option to avoid a comatose state or worse," he paused and stared at the Captain a few moments, making sure Yondu understood exactly what that 'worse' could be before he continued, "Since he is unable to give consent, I'm assuming you're of some authoritative relation."

"Aye," Yondu nodded, "Xandarian orphan been with me since he were small enough t'fit in a yaro root crate."

"Adopted?" he asked and Yondu nodded quickly, "We're going to take very good care of him, he's already comfortable, and this procedure is really very simple, but we must be delicate and therefore take a bit of time."

"Good," Yondu said gruffly.

"I really recommend you don't wait around here," the Healer said with more indifference than anything, "It'll be quite a while before we can let any of you back after we've started."

"What?" Yondu scoffed, "Y'want me to leave? 'Cause I ain't walkin' away from that kid while he's-"

"Sir," the Healer interjected calmly, "Respectfully, your presence here will do nothing but make our staff nervous and that is truly the last thing your son needs."

Yondu's chest tightened all the way to his throat, but he managed a weak, "Aye."

The Healer continued, sliding his hand down the counter and it illuminated with electronic forms, "He's a very strong young man, I'd say many wouldn't survive these injuries, but I'm confident he'll pull through. Can I have you sign these-"

"Course."

It didn't take long to squiggle hardly useable information, exactly as he'd done when Peter's leg had been broken, the sanatorium cared if he paid the bill, not who it was for. The Healer disappeared again into the bay where Kraglin was unconscious and Yondu's breath remained in his chest much longer than usual.

"Yondu?" Peter's quiet voice made him turn to the young man slipping his silent headphones around his neck and nervously asked, "Is Kraglin gonna be okay?"

"That's what they're sayin'," he nodded, definitely not going to tell Peter about the hole that was about to be drilled in Kraglin's skull, "C'mon, let's get that coolant tank taken care of."

"We can't leave him," Peter jumped to his feet while Tullk and Horuz began walking at the order, but stopped to watch the young man challenge the Captain.

"The Healers are gonna have him for a while," Yondu sighed, not in the mood to fight with the kid, "They don't want us sittin' around, stinkin' their halls up. We'll come back-"

"I'm not leavin'," Peter sat back on one of the few chairs in the small indent off the hall and Yondu sensed Tullk and Horuz's eyes on him, waiting for a reaction.

"Peter Jason Quill," Yondu snarled, his teeth tight together, hardly satisfied by the spark of pink growing on the young man's ears at the sound of his full name, "Git y'r'ass off that chair before I do it for ya, 'cause I'll whup ya right here, boy."

That did it. It may have come with a scowl and angry mumble under Peter's breath, but he stood and walked passed the Captain, narrowing his eyes directly on Yondu's before huffing down the hall. He jerked his head for Tullk and Horuz to follow the seething young man and strode behind his crew the way they'd come in.

"Capt'n," Tullk held back a few paces in the main lobby as Horuz followed Quill, who was already out the door, "Why don't you 'n Pete stay nearby, we can handle the coolant tank, it ain't a big deal. There's a bar 'round the corner, then ya can come check on Kraglin easier. I don't think he's gonna be much help fixin' anything right now anyway," Tullk jerked his head at the door Quill had disappeared through.

"He don't want nothin' t'do with me right now," Yondu scoffed nonchalantly.

"He's scared," Tullk insisted, "And I imagine he's feelin' guilty as sin right now. Take him for a drink, you'll both feel better."

Yondu sighed and his eyes caught Quill waiting for the Milano's hatch to lower, stopping the young man in his tracks, he called, "Quill, c'mere!"

"What?!" Peter didn't move, only turning towards the Captain as he yelled from where the Milano was parked.

"Peter," Yondu hit the button on his radio and growled into the transmitter, "Git, over, here, now."

He watched the kid's head droop, but his feet started moving towards the Captain and Tullk nodded as he walked away. Yondu didn't have the heart to yell at Peter and really wished he'd drop the attitude, at least until Horuz and Tullk had gone.

"What?" Peter repeated, crossing his arms when he scuffed his boots to a stop a few feet in front of the Captain.

"We're stickin' around here," Yondu said simply, "In case we gotta come back on short notice-"

"What about my ship?" he jerked his head at the craft Tullk was climbing into.

"Tullk 'n Horuz'll get her back, there's a-" Yondu continued, but Peter snapped with another interjection.

"My ship?! Horuz'll-"

"Horuz ain't gonna do nothin' but get 'em back safe!" Yondu exploded, "Peter, I am  _not_  in the mood to argue with you! Damn it, kid, give me a break right now, please."

Warm mortification crept up the Captain's neck, he didn't often plead, certainly not with a subordinate, but Peter's anger dissolved as his gaze turned to the ground.

"I'm, just" Peter stammered around an apology, "Worried about Krag."

"Me 'n you both," Yondu nodded understandingly, "There's a bar around the corner, let's get a kojak."

Peter nodded, walking next to the Captain, though he turned back several times as they walked away from the sanatorium.

* * *

He needed to stop taking his fear out as anger on the Captain, Peter was genuinely surprised the man hadn't smack him up side the head, even more so he was offering a drink. A drink Peter knew he didn't deserve, he deserved to be the one lying in the sanatorium. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't have a clue what the Healers were doing to Kraglin while he followed Yondu to a bar. His stomach rolled, nausea threatening the back of his throat regardless of how many deep breaths he tried to take through his nose, but successfully not drawing any attention from the Captain.

The bar wasn't an upscale place, but it was much nicer than the dives they usually frequented, it sort of reminded Peter of the downstairs of the bar he'd met Visi in before she'd dragged him upstairs and into her games. He'd take that beating all over again and then some if it would help Kraglin, but it wouldn't, and Peter continued fighting the bombarding thoughts to tell the Captain what really happened in the stack unit.

Yondu's nerves always made him thirsty and, by the time Peter was ordering his second kojak, the Captain was finishing his third. His tolerance was impressive, but Yondu did become a bit more warm and fuzzy after a few drinks. Normally, Peter appreciated the hard, proud slaps on the back, but, as his Captain's blue hand landed on his shoulder, Peter winced, guilt compiling in his gut.

"I'm proud'a you, Quill," Yondu grinned and took another sip of his drink.

Peter scoffed, hardly able to meet the man's eyes, "Why?"

"Why?" Yondu scoffed harder, slapping him on the shoulder again, "How you got the whole Eclector through Kree territory-"

"That coolant tank-"

"Screw the coolant tank!" Yondu exclaimed with a short laugh, "Coolant tanks are cheap 'n easy. You got us here, right place, just in time. I'm damn proud of ya, son."

Peter felt vomit hit the back of his throat, but swallowed hard and fought the tears trying to sting his eyes, distracting himself from Yondu's gaze with his own drink. He didn't deserve praise, not for accomplishing something he wouldn't have had to if he hadn't have caused Kraglin to be hurt in the first place. But he couldn't say that, the words physically wouldn't leave his mouth, so Peter took another long gulp of his kojak.

"Kraglin's gonna be alright," Yondu said, patting Peter's shoulder as he dragged his hand away and picked up his drink again, "You'll see, the Healers are gonna do what they do, 'n he's gonna be fine."

"What are they doin'?" Peter asked, noticing Yondu nearly choke on his kojak and cover it by continuing his extremely long gulp.

"Nothin' you should really think about, Quill," the Captain's sad smirk made Peter even more curious.

"Yondu," he raised his eyebrows challengingly, "What are they doin'?"

He sighed, grinning the same prideful grin as he looked at Peter, making his stomach roll further with culpability.

"Nobody pushes me like you, Quill," Yondu said, "Nobody's got the guts, granted I ain't had any of 'em around since they were a kid, lettin' 'em get away with murder."

Peter tried to chuckle with Yondu, but his words hit much harder than the Captain could've expected and he buried the end of his weak smile in his drink.

"Kraglin's bleedin' in his head," Yondu said quickly and, despite the liquid on his tongue, Peter's mouth went dry, "The Healers say the best thing t'do is drill a hole to relieve the pressure-"

"Into his brain?!" Peter found his voice, but was unable to control the volume for a moment.

"Pete," Yondu sighed, "they ain't gonna drill into his brain, but they gotta drain the fluid build up, that's what he said anyway."

"And you believe him?" Peter asked earnestly.

"No reason not to," Yondu shrugged, sipping his drink and said, "The sanatorium is a business like any other, they just want their money."

Peter nodded, knowing he could trust Yondu to treat money as no object in Kraglin's recovery, they could always steal more.

"How long they say it'll take?" Peter asked, eager to return to the chair near the First Mate's emergency bay.

"While," Yondu nodded, clinking his glass against Peter's, "Drink up."

The kojak seemed to be helping calm the Captain's nerves, while making the weight in Peter's stomach somehow even heavier. How could he be sitting at a bar with Yondu, tossing back drinks, while Kraglin was having his skull drilled into? It wasn't fair.

"Y'know, Quill, I know I'm hard on ya sometimes," Yondu began after a few moments of silence between them, Peter's insides rolled, "I think I either turn a blind eye or come down on you like a hammer, and I don't know why, but I'm sure the wishy washy hasn't been easier for you."

"I'm okay," Peter shrugged, really he appreciated that Yondu didn't always come down hard on him and when he did, admittedly, he usually deserved it.

"You're a tough, kid," Yondu grinned, slapping Peter on the shoulder again, "Wicked smart and you've turned into a hell of a young man. I'm proud of you, son."

Peter had to look away, wiping the few escaped tears with the back of his hand, knowing it was anything but stealthy, though he had little option at the corner of the public bar. Yondu didn't often tell him he was proud of him and, at any other moment, Peter would have relished in the compliments, but, knowing he didn't deserve the praise, his gut rolled harder with nauseous guilt.

"I'll, be-" Peter couldn't finish his sentence before throwing himself off the barstool and hurrying towards the washrooms at the back of the bar, barely making it to a toilet before his insides burst into the water below his face.

The single sob that released was stifled quickly, and Peter heaved a few deep breaths, splashed clean water on his face and made sure he looked as normal as possible before returning to the bar. Yondu was right outside the door when it opened, concern furrowed between his eyebrows.

"Y'alright, Quill?" he asked, taking hold of the young man's face with his large, blue hands, but Peter brushed him off.

"I'm fine," he grumbled.

"Y'r'not hot," Yondu agreed, walking back to the bar with the young man.

"I'm fine, Yondu," Peter insisted irritably.

"Just pretty sure I seen ya put back more kojack than that without retchin'," the Captain laughed.

"It's not the kojack," Peter said, "Just, just worried's all."

Yondu sighed, "You can't be makin' y'rself sick on account'a Kraglin bein' laid up, that ain't gonna help anybody."

"I know," Peter mumbled, forcing a sip of his kojak down his burning throat.

"Talk t'me," Yondu smirked a bit lopsidedly, "Y'think if anybody's worried about that boy up there," he scoffed, "That's my First Mate, Quill."

"I know, sir," Peter nodded at his drink, releasing the contents of his stomach had done little to alleviate his nausea.

Yondu laughed suddenly, "I'll never forget the first time he let you fly that ship'a yours. You come runnin' in the mess hall hollerin' to tell me how good y'did and Kraglin looked like he thought I was gonna bite him! But I liked that he took ya under his wing, gods know I never would've been as patient with you as he was, 'n he turned you into a damn good pilot, damn good, Pete, the way you got through Big Maggie," he sighed, grinning at Peter, "I'm proud of ya, son, truly I am."

If Peter had anything in his stomach he would have needed to return to the toilet, but he did his best to force a grin, knowing his eyes were watery with tears as he looked at the Captain. But Yondu's smile was proof that he misunderstood the motivation behind Peter's emotions and the words of admittance still stuck in his throat, refusing to form on his tongue.

"He's taught you a lot," Yondu continued with memories glistening in his eyes, "Probably more than I have, and I'm proud of who both'a you have become."

"Yondu," Peter tried, but his throat tightened and his mouth went dry, hardly able to simply nod in a show of appreciation.

"C'mon, Quill," Yondu slapped him gently on the back, offering a short, vigorous rub as he downed his kojack with the other hand, "Fresh air'll help, outta start headin' that way."

Peter pushed his half-full kojack away as he stood and followed the Captain outside. The fresh air rushing against his face helped a little, but every step closer to the sanatorium made Peter's gut twist further. No matter how hard he tried, Kraglin's skull being drilled into was an image Peter couldn't shake. He vaguely heard Yondu speaking to him a few times, but Peter was too lost in thought, only turning to the Captain when the doors to the main lobby dissolved and allowed them through.

"Hold on," Yondu motioned for Peter to stay as he approached the front desk, but he followed the Captain anyway.

The pink woman behind the counter smiled at him, she looked hardly older, but he was almost sure it was the same receptionist from when he'd been carried in with a broken leg in Yondu's arms.

"Can you tell me the status on one Kraglin Obfonteri?" Yondu asked, leaning over the desk and giving her a handsome grin, deepening the pink in her cheeks.

"Of course," she nodded, swiping and tapping the desk before looking up at the Captain, "They are currently finishing the procedure and will be setting him up for recovery soon."

"Thank you," Yondu said and walked towards the lifts, Peter followed, glad he had, seeing as the slightly buzzed Captain might have forgotten him, though he too was excited that Kraglin was nearly finished with the horrible ordeal of having his head drilled into.

But, just as the doors opened on the emergency floor, the spine-rattling sound of a power-drill reached Peter's ears, shrill and painful before winding to a stop. Peter was sure he would have vomited again, but a strong hand on his shoulder gave him the shove he needed to push his feet through the hallway.

Just as they approach the bay Kraglin was in, the same Healer walked out, followed by two others, but they hurried down the corridor as the first stopped and waited for Peter and the Captain.

"How's he doin'?" Yondu asked.

"Good," the Healer nodded, "Like I said, he's a strong young man, but I would certainly give him time to recover once he's left here."

"Course," Yondu agreed, "Boy's gonna live in his bed, long as you say, hell, longer."

Silently, Peter promise he would bring Kraglin anything he needed, just like when Peter's leg had been broken. It would be the least of what would have been added to his punishment if Yondu knew the truth.

"Can we see him?" Peter couldn't suppress the question.

"He's just gone back to sleep," the Healer nodded, "but yes, I'm sure he'd like to have you both there when he wakes."

Neither Yondu or Peter needed further invitation as they pushed passed the man and into Kraglin's emergency bay. He couldn't believe how young the First Mate looked, all the blood cleaned off and his face shaved carefully so the Healers could stich the jagged cuts along one side. Peter inhaled sharply, his chest squeezing from unintentionally holding his breath at the painful sight. Yondu's hand on his shoulder was comforting, yet heavy, reminding Peter of the Captain's own anxiety over the First Mate's condition.

The machines beeping next to Kraglin's bed brought Peter back to the hospital with his mom and a wave of fear washed over him, flooding his guilt further. With a nervous glance at Yondu, Peter carefully settled onto the side of Kraglin's cot at the Captain's small, encouraging nod. There wasn't anywhere he'd rather be than right next to Kraglin, but so much of him knew he had no right to occupy the space. The First Mate was lying in a hospital bed because of Peter, because he couldn't shut his mouth for two goddamn seconds to listen to directions.

Peter was so absorbed in self-deprecating thoughts he nearly missed the First Mate's eyes fluttering open, fully focused on him, making Peter's smile much larger than the one the First Mate greeted him with.

"Krag!" Peter exclaimed.

"Y'alright boy?" Yondu asked quickly, leaning on Peter with nearly his entire weight.

Kraglin tried to nod, but stopped short, wincing uncomfortably before his voice broke passed his cracked lips, raspy and weak, "I'm a'right, Capt'n, my head kinda hurts though."

"I imagine it would," Yondu scoffed lightly.

"Got knocked pretty good, huh?" Kraglin almost grinned.

"Yeah, boy," the Captain chuckled, "Gave me a helluva scare."

"Sorry, sir," Kraglin mumbled and Peter swallowed hard on the nausea returning to the back of his throat.

"Cut it out with your sorrys Krag," Yondu said gently, "Y'didn't do nothin' wrong 'n I'm just glad y'r'okay, son, that's all."

Kraglin's gaze moistened, turning to Peter quickly, which made Peter's eyes sting with tears and his gut dropped to his toes.

"Hey, Pete, y'okay?" he asked, making Peter feel even worse, somehow.

"Yeah, Krag," he scoffed to cover a whimper, "We're worried about you."

"Y'know me," Kraglin smiled with the side of his face that wasn't stitched back together, "I'mma be okay. They say when I can get outta here?"

"Not yet," Yondu shook his head, "But don't be gettin' antsy, however long that Healer says y'gotta stay laid up for you better expect it doubled-"

"Capt'n-" Kraglin sighed, interjecting uncharacteristically.

"Boy," Yondu interjected quite characteristically, "Y'ain't arguin' with me, 'n if y'do I might just keep ya there longer. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Kraglin agreed quietly, though his unsliced cheek jerked upward a little, his eye catching Peter again, "Pete, ya look sick."

"I look better than you," he muttered jokingly and Kraglin grinned in agreement, "I'm just, I'm sorry, that vent flew outta my hand 'n I, I'm just really sorry."

"I should'a told'ja it does that," Kraglin said simply, staring at Peter and his insides twisted harder with guilt, knowing his next words should be a complete confession.

But, the words still refused to pass his lips, instead becoming, "No, Krags, it was, there was a lot goin' on."

It felt much longer than it probably was that Kraglin stared at him before smirking and said, "Yeah, just an accident."

Nausea still threatened his throat, blood pumped hard in his ears and Peter was sure the heat in his face was visible, but Kraglin said nothing else before Yondu spoke up again. With a bit of excitement and pride in his tone, he told Kraglin how Peter had run the Eclector through Big Maggie and landed it after an electrical short sent them into a freefall. Kraglin seemed impressed, despite his subdued tone, but Peter could hardly pay attention to the First Mate's reaction, hiding his gaze and concentrating on the dirt he was picking out from under his nails.

"Good job, Pete," Kraglin said and he forced his eyes up, pushing a grin onto his face, but dropped his attention again quickly.

"Thanks," Peter muttered, the Captain's praise had certainly pushed his physical discomfort to a level that encouraged him to locate the waste bin, just in case.

"Sir," Kraglin said weakly, "I think I'm gonna sleep again, if that's a'right."

"Course," Yondu nodded, tapping Peter on the shoulder and he jumped off the bed, "Want us to stay?"

Kraglin made a nearly audible sound that seemed affirmative, but Peter wanted to be anywhere else. He could think of no where else he'd rather be, yet the walls of the emergency bay were closer every minute. But, when Yondu settled himself in one of the two chairs by the foot of Kraglin's bed, Peter sighed and sat down next to him.

The guilt would go away, in time he wouldn't feel so bad about it and Kraglin would be fine. Peter hated how relieved he was that Kraglin didn't remember what happened, but Yondu would absolutely murder him now if the First Mate was the one to tell him what really happened, Peter had had more than ample opportunity to mention it, not to mention a piss-poor attitude. Yes, for Peter's life's, or at least his backside's, sake it was best that the truth of what happened in the center stack stayed with him.

* * *

He heard the steady beeping before his eyes slowly fluttered opened on the Healers bustling around him. Kraglin's body involuntarily jerked and he felt for the tubes connected to his arms, but was stopped by several sets of hands holding him down.

"Mister Obfonteri," one of the Healers said, keeping his voice calm and steady, "We're healing your injury, please, you're safe."

Kraglin did still, shifting his gaze around the room, but his neck hurt too badly to turn, "I'm alive?"

"Sure are," he nodded, "And you'll be back up in no time, though I will recommend some bedrest following your departure."

As quickly as his nerves settled, Kraglin felt his eyelids weighing again and managed a, "Mmmbut, Cap, needs me."

"Well, he'll make do," the Healer chuckled, "Get some rest, I'll send him and your brother in when I see them."

"Brother," Kraglin scoffed, tears stinging his exhausted eyes while his tired lips rambled, "Ain't got a brother."

"Oh, I thought the young man when you came in-" the Healer began curiously.

"Couldn't care less about anybody but himself," Kraglin said in a hoarse whisper, unsure why, and heard the Healer inhale, then exhale, clearly at a loss of response, before the First Mate grumbled, "I'm just, meds must be makin' me loopy."

"Close your eyes," he said, completely unnecessarily as Kraglin's eyes fell shut without any external encouragement.

"Night, sir," the First Mate muttered.

"Good night," the Healer said gently and Kraglin heard the others shuffling out, but warm darkness was pulling him back into slumber.

He was sure he enjoyed exactly none of it, however, before he was being woken to a familiar weight sinking the edge of his bed. Forcing his eyes open, Kraglin saw Peter staring pale faced at him while Yondu stood over his shoulder, a lighter shade of blue than usual. Peter's excitement made him wince, causing a surge of pain along one side of his face.

Kraglin wasn't exactly sure why a wariness was nagging at him, but it continued with every word further in the short conversation. Peter hardly looked at him while he sat on the bed and picked at his nails, a sign Kraglin knew meant the kid felt guilty.

"Pete, ya look sick," he commented lightly, but the grimace that crossed Peter's face made his nagging wariness soar to suspicion.

"I look better than you," Peter tried to scoff and Kraglin forced a painful grin, "I'm just, I'm sorry, that vent flew outta my hand 'n I, I'm just really sorry."

 _'Alright, listen,'_  Kraglin's own voice echoed in his head, _'y'r'gonna have t'get it outta there, but be careful, one side should come down pretty easy, but don't tear at it, the other one's sorta-'_ BANG! Peter's scream,  _'Kraglin!'_

In a moment, the scene returned to his mind, as clear as if he was still at the bottom of the dark tunnel, unsuspecting of the heavy, sharp metal about to crash down on him. Peter wasn't apologizing out of sympathy, it was guilt. And, since the kid's fingernails were free of dirt, the First Mate was sure he'd been hoarding the truth from their Captain. Kraglin's anger burned, the stitches on his face ached and his head pounded while Peter was afraid of taking a whipping from Yondu.

"I should'a told'ja it does that," Kraglin made his words neutral, watching Peter's expression, unsurprised at the pain that crossed his face.

But, as expected, he had no plans to put himself into the line of fire by confessing to the truth, "No, Krags, it was, there was a lot goin' on."

Kraglin couldn't help a smirk, not surprised by Peter's actions, but a pang in his gut grew and he recognized the roots of distrust, "Yeah, just an accident."

Whether Peter knew he remembered or not, he still stayed silent while Yondu praised his piloting skills and fast thinking to get them to Xandar. The First Mate maintained a mild grin, feeling nauseous as he said 'good job' to the guilt ridden young man, but Kraglin wasn't going to tell on him. Even then, sore all over with tubes jammed into his veins and a bandage on the base of his skull where the Healers had drilled a hole, Kraglin felt the urge to protect Peter, and hated that his loyalty clearly wasn't returned.

The moment he felt a warm rush of exhaustion wash over him, Kraglin feigned the need to sleep instantly, unable to fully answer the Captain's question. Of course he wanted his Captain to stay, but Peter, Peter didn't care about him, only about himself.

His eyes stung as he shut them and Kraglin hoped neither noticed the tear that slipped down his unstitched cheek, vowing silently to distance himself from Peter.

**_Thanks for reading and if you've EVER written me a review that even just said "thank you" you are not remotely who I was angered by and I appreciate your words very much._ **


	38. Puppies make terrible pancake

_** Hi Guys! ** _

_** On last chapter(s) storyline- we are all mad at Peter, he's a selfish jerk, BUT I'm so so excited at how many of you said it's spot on for the personality we're introduced to in the first film- I'm not always a fan of his decisions either, but I'm staying canon and, well, that's Peter.  ** _

_ **On This Chapter- This is a long awaited prompt from my dear Ravensnight ;-) Peter sneaking an animal on board. After doing some research I learned Arago-7 has 325% of Earth gravity so I played with that idea AND I'd like to remind everyone of the beginning of the first movie when Peter uses the Holographic Map to see what used to be on Morag before it was destroyed and there's a little girl playing with a dog, so instead of searching for an alien creature or making something up, I just went a little boring here (sorry) but I really hope you enjoy it anyway!** _

_ **Happy Reading!** _

Peter should have been back on the Eclector days ago, but, up until this moment, he’d been able to successfully push off his return with poor excuses.

“Boy,” Yondu growled at the screen, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with y’r’ship. Nobody needs ya t’pick ‘em up anything, ‘n I swear, Quill, if you try to tell me you’re lost-”

“The Andromeda isn’t exactly well marked-” Peter tried.

“Quill!” Yondu barked, shortly followed by a faint, but audible, actual bark while the Captain continued, “Git y’r’ass back here- What the hell was that?”

“What?” Peter asked blankly, avoiding the instinctual eye shift to the source of the sound.

Yondu’s eyes narrowed, but a moment later he said, “I sent you our coordinates. If I don’t see y’r’ship pullin’ in t’dock before I finish my dinner you ain’t goin’ on another solo run ‘til I’m sick’a watchin’ ya climb the walls!”

“You havin’ dinner in the hangar?” Peter couldn’t help the sarcastic naivety, relieved when Yondu’s response was to disconnect the call.

He sighed deeply, pivoting as he rushed to the bunk and flung back the privacy curtains. A undernourished dog was contently licking the clean sides of a bowl in the corner of the cot, but looked up and barked happily at Peter.

“Hey, boy,” Peter smiled, scratching behind the dog’s dirty ear, “Y’like orloni soup, huh?”

Content panting while leaning into Peter’s torso seemed answer enough.

Yondu had sent him to Arago-7 on what should have been a quick trip, and, in reality, exchanging 40,000 units for two dozen gravity mines from a Pheragot named Nespia hadn’t taken too terribly long. Although walking on Arago-7 felt like trudging through mud, and he’d never admit to nearly crashing the Milano from the surprising pull after entering the atmosphere, but Peter was still done with the errand well before he’d told his commander he was. He just wasn’t sure what to do about the dog yet.

Peter had been on his way back to the Milano, slowly and more aggravated with every strained step, when he’d heard a familiar whining and saw the scrawny animal belly crawling behind him. The Pheragots were not unkind, despite their intimidating size and strength, they were quite gentle, but the dog was clearly less intimidated by Peter’s stature. He’d questioned the first passing Pheragot who shook their head sadly at the miserable beast and informed Peter of recently popular children’s entertainment that had resulted in a mass import of creatures unfamiliar with the planet’s intense gravity. There had been many young Pheragots crying over the flattened remains of a kitten.

Peter blinked at the man, hardly remembering to mumble a thank you in his shock before the huge Pheragot walked away.

He’d sighed, hearing Yondu yelling in his head already, but Peter couldn’t leave the dog to die under the slow crush of gravity neither of them were built for, and scooped the mutt off the ground. Pushing himself to stand would have been hard enough under his own weight, the addition of a fairly emaciated dog made it nearly impossible. Painfully slowly, Peter made it back to the Milano, thankful Nespia had delivered the gravity mines as promised and left the large package directly below his cargo hold.

It had taken several minutes for Peter just to make it up the hatch ramp, let alone what felt like an hour climbing into the cockpit after rolling the dog onto the bunk. But, as soon as Peter kicked the Milano’s engines on and the internal gravity evened out, he felt the weight lifting from his chest and shoulders. A happy bark from below had told him the dog was also relieved at the change.

Once he got them out of the heavy atmosphere, Peter put the Milano on auto-pilot with an arbitrary destination he knew wouldn’t be too far from the Eclector, but nowhere Yondu would find him. He’d contemplated what to do with the animal while washing the dirt from his fur, revealing the dog’s natural tan color and fluffy ears, pointing straight at the ceiling. Against his better judgement, Peter decided to call him Snarf since his ears and white chin reminded him of the  _Thundercats_  character, despite being a dog.

To avoid suspicion, he’d responded to every one of Yondu’s messages requesting an update on his status, but, when the Captain had finally video called him, Peter shoved the last half of his dinner at Snarf, hiding him behind the bunk’s curtains, before acting calm and collected for his Captain.

“The hell am I gonna do with you?” Peter laughed weakly, rubbing the dog’s boney side.

Snarf flopped on the bunk, rolling onto his back with his tongue lolling goofily out one side of his mouth while Peter vigorously scratched his belly.

He’d considered calling Kraglin privately to ask his advice, but the First Mate hadn’t really spoken to him much since recovering from his head trauma. The scars on his face were mostly healed, but would never disappear and Peter hadn’t exactly pushed for interaction, he’d actually avoided the First Mate to keep the man’s scars from renewing the guilt he still felt when he saw them. But Kraglin had always been his source of guidance and Peter wished he wasn’t wracked with anxiety at the simple idea of calling him.

With a heavy sigh, he patted Snarf’s exposed belly, “Okay, boy, we gotta head home. I’ll, uh, I’ll figure out what to do with you, but y’r’gonna hafta stay here after I land. Okay?”

Snarf panted blankly and Peter scoffed lightly at the dopey expression.

“This isn’t gonna end well,” he chuckled, turning back to the cockpit, but stopped before tripping over the weight twisting around his ankles, grinning down at the eager dog, “What’re you doin’?” a short bark surprised Peter, but he laughed and lifted Snarf into his arms, “Fine, but if you slobber on my controls we’re havin’ words.”

After a brief struggle to strap the wriggling dog into the co-pilot chair, Peter dropped into his seat and stared at the navigation screen. His finger hovered a moment before begrudgingly jamming the coordinates Yondu had sent into the module and flipping the Milano into manual pilot mode.

He knew bringing a dog back to the Eclector was a terrible idea, but hoped he could keep him hidden until their next touch down on a civilized planet like Xandar. The urchin kids that seemed to multiply on every stop often had mutts running around with them, Snarf would fit right in. Peter just had to make sure the crew didn’t find him. Sure, Yondu would be pissed, but Peter could take a lecture and a few smacks to the head, his real concern was how many Ravagers would have Snarf roasting on a spit if they found the animal.

When the massive ship came into view, Peter’s stomach twisted, glancing at the dog panting contently at him from the next seat. Maybe he was pulling into the port field a little slower than usual, but Peter felt rather indignant to the Milano being caught in a tracker beam and dragged into the hangar. Although it did give him a chance to sneak Snarf below deck before whoever was controlling the beam saw behind his windshield.

“Here,” he opened a bag of dried emlons, hoping they were okay for dogs as he dumped them in the empty bowl on the bunk and scratched behind the dog’s ear, “I’ll be back later. Just don’t bark,” he stopped as he shut the curtains and added, “And if you could piss on the floor instead’a the bed.”

Snarf ignored him, chomping the emlon chips.

“Good’a you to show back up,” Kraglin grumbled before the hatch ramp even touched the hangar floor.

“Yeah, sorry, just got caught- Hey, where ya going?” Peter blocked the First Mate at the top of the ramp, trying to seem nonchalant and failing terribly.

“D’ja get the mines?” Kraglin scoffed impatiently, trying to step around Peter.

“Down here, cargo hold,” Peter nodded down the ramp, pushing Kraglin’s shoulder to turn around, but snatched his hand away when the First Mate shrugged him off.

Peter closed the hatch as soon as they descended, not missing the sideways glance Kraglin gave him, but, since he didn’t ask, Peter acted as though he always locked his ship up the moment it was unoccupied. There was several moments of awkward silence between them as the cargo lift lowered, the gravity mines still in the messy pile Peter had carelessly thrown them into before leaving Arago-7.

Kraglin’s sigh expressed open frustration and he scowled at Peter as he bent over to stack the individually packaged gadgets neatly.

“Didn’t bother to test ‘em before you took all a these did’ja?” Kraglin asked bitterly.

“A couple, yeah,” Peter shrugged, stacking the other side of the pile to match Kraglin’s.

Before the First Mate could scoff again, his attention whipped to the closed hatch at the sharp bark that reached their ears. Peter cringed, his gut plummeting when Kraglin’s glare landed on him.

“The hell did you do?” he growled, punching the hatch code to open the ramp and pushed Peter away as the younger man scrambled to stop him

“Krag, I can explain-” Peter insisted nervously, following the First Mate into the Milano.

They were met almost immediately by Snarf, wagging his tail excitedly in the middle of the main room.

Kraglin slowly turned, his eyes fiery, and let out a bellow so like their Captain that Peter jumped a little, “YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!”

“Krag, really, let me ex-” Peter tried again, skating around the angry First Mate towards the now cowering dog.

“EXPLAIN WHAT?!” Kraglin continued, “THAT THERE’S SOMETHIN’ WRONG WITH Y’R’BRAIN?! ‘CAUSE THAT’S THE ONLY-”

“STOP YELLING!” Peter barked, stunning the First Mate into silence before he lowered his voice, “Y’r’scarin’ him, man. C’mon, just listen,  _please_. I’m not keepin’ him-”

“Damn right y’r’not,” Kraglin grumbled.

“I’m not,” Peter snapped, “You ever been on Arago-seven?” Kraglin shrugged affirmatively, “Then y’know their gravity’ll crush any living thing that ain’t built for it,” again, Kraglin made a tiny gesture of agreement and Peter made his voice rather pathetic as he said, “He was gonna die, Krag.”

For a few moments, the First Mate stared blankly between the dog and Peter before dipping his head backwards with a dramatic sigh, “If Capt’n finds out I am  _not_  takin’ the fall for you.”

“Wouldn’t ask ya to,” Peter shook his head and Kraglin scoffed, hard.

“Keep him in here,” Kraglin ordered.

“That’s the plan,” Peter nodded.

“Yeah?” he scowled, “What’s the rest’a that plan?”

Peter grimaced, “I was gonna drop him off on Xandar next time we stop. Always see those stree, uh, those kids that run around town, usually got a dog or two with ‘em.”

He tried to stop himself from saying ‘street kids’, but the rise in Kraglin’s shoulders was proof he’d caught the term and Peter offered an apologetic smirk.

“I didn’t mean like-” he mumbled.

“Just keep that thing quiet,” Kraglin interjected angrily, “Capt’n’s waitin’ for ya in the mess hall.”

With that, the First Mate pivoted and practically jogged down the ramp, leaving Peter and Snarf alone on the Milano.

He’d brought more food than he’d needed for the short trip, but, with a second mouth in the cabin, there wasn’t anything left after the dog scarfed down the dried emlons, and Peter wished the animal understood his promises to bring more food as soon as he could. The muffled whimpering after he shut the hatch tore at his heart, not to mention heightening Peter’s nerves as he made gentle shushing sounds and backed out of the hangar.

“Y’r’late,” Yondu’s gruff tone sent a shiver down Peter’s spine.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Peter said, flipping around on his commander.

Yondu scrunched his forehead, narrowing his red eyes suspiciously, “What’d you do?”

“Nothin’,” Peter insisted quickly, adding a characteristic scoff despite his gut rolling with anxiety.

A law growl emitted from the back of the Captain’s throat, but he raised his eyebrows after another few moments and said, “Let’s see these gravity mines.”

“Uh,” Peter hurried to step in front of the Centaurian striding towards his ship and the faint whining inside, “Sure, yeah, Yondu, but, uh, hey, I already tested a few of ‘em, they’re good. I’ll put ‘em away, you ain’t gotta worry about it.”

It was too much. Peter felt it the moment he offered to take the chore on by himself, but hoped the Captain would assume his eagerness to help was a sign of maturity. When Yondu bared his pointed teeth in an amused smirk, however, Peter knew there was no chance the man didn’t see passed the feigned sincerity.

“Jeezus, Quill, y’didn’t kill somebody did’ja?” Yondu scoffed lightly, but the question wasn’t a joke.

“No!” Peter shook his head, “No, I’m just, I just thought I’d help.”

“Since when?” Yondu challenged.

“Hey, I just went ‘n got the shit for ya,” Peter responded indignantly and the Captain’s smirk widened into a genuine smile.

“How’d ya like Arago?” Yondu asked after expelling a quick laugh.

“Didn’t,” Peter muttered, “Felt like I weighed three hundred pounds.”

“Closer t’six I bet,” Yondu chuckled, “Only place we can get those things that are worth a damn though, Contraxia has a guy who makes knock offs, but they don’t work like the real deal.”

Peter nodded, pretending his interest was on Yondu’s assessment of the gadgets while slowly steering the man out of the hangar. His thoughts focused on how to sneak around Matbua for any meaty leftovers Snarf would appreciate. 

Surprisingly, Matbua wasn’t in the kitchen when Peter snuck in after a quick shower Yondu had insisted he take, it was admittedly necessary. With his arms full of everything that looked to be made of animal remains, Peter turned to sneak out of the kitchen, but froze and dropped a container of fried bresquet seeing Yondu leaning in the doorway to the mess hall.

“Now y'gonna tell me what the hell y'r'doin'?” he asked simply.

“I, uh,” Peter stammered, “Just hungry, I missed dinner y'know.”

“Even for you, that’s a lot'a food, Quill,” Yondu said without a trace of anger, causing Peter even greater concern than if the man was yelling.

“Um, yes, sir,” Peter didn’t know what to say and just hung his head a bit, locking his gaze on the bresquet laying on its side at his feet.

“Talk, son,” Yondu demanded, his tone more demanding than before.

Peter cringed, but lifted his eyes to the Captain, “I’d rather show you.”

The Captain slowly raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath, “Put the food back.”

“I kinda need it,” Peter said pleadingly.

“All of it?” Yondu asked flatly.

Peter looked at the container on the ground, then assessed the leftovers in his arms, finally looking back at the Captain, “Maybe not all of it.”

At Yondu’s head jerk towards the kitchen, Peter turned and deposited most of what he’d gathered in an unorganized pile near where he’d found it, grabbing the fried bresquet on his way towards the Captain. With a small wave of his hand, Yondu insisted Peter lead him down the hall.

Peter’s stomach churned more the closer they got to the hangar, his ears burned with the lecture that would follow and his backside tingled with the threat of a whipping he wouldn’t soon forget. But he kept pace with the Captain’s long strides, despite his legs feeling as though they were back on Arago-7.

The moment Peter entered his code and the hatch opened, a happy yelp echoed from inside the Milano and he felt his Captain’s eyes hot on the side of his face. Snarf danced at the end of the moving ramp, his wiry tail wagging rapidly while his tongue hung outside his panting mouth, saliva pooling on the floor in front of his paws.

“I, I can-” Peter tried, turning to Yondu, but snapped his mouth shut when the man he’d recently surpassed in height gave him a look that made the twenty-year-old feel like he was all of ten again, caught trying to take his spaceship on a mission alone.

Snarf broke the brooding silence with another joyful bark, but the Captain turned his raging, red eyes on the dog and, with a short whimper, he laid down on the spot.

“Why the hell do you have that mangy mutt in your ship?” Yondu’s question was so fearfully steady Peter wondered if he somehow already knew about the hidden cargo.

“I wasn’t gonna keep him,” Peter promised immediately.

“Y’r’damn right!” Yondu expelled a harsh laugh, “But that ain’t what I asked, boy.”

Peter stumbled his way through the explanation, attempting as many pathetic glances as he thought he could get away with. Though, based on the Captain’s lack of reaction, none of them helped.

“Please don’t kill him,” Peter finished, outright begging since there was no one around to see.

Yondu blinked several times at Peter before shifting his attention to the dog, still crouched on his belly, tail sweeping the floor behind him.

“What’s your plan then?” he asked finally.

“Uh, Xandar,” Peter said hurriedly.

“And is this the reason ya spent two days lyin’ t’me ‘bout why ya weren’t back yet?” Yondu’s question was pointed and deliberate.

“Yes, sir,” Peter nodded, unable to concoct anything reasonable, he was caught, might as well not make it worse by lying.

“So,” Yondu’s sigh was a bit shaky, heightening Peter’s nerves, “Instead’a usin’ that time t’drop this thing off on Xandar, you what? Spent the last couple days thinkin’ about how to?”

Now Peter felt like the kid clutching the straps of his backpack, fresh off Earth’s soil, maybe even younger and dumber. His eyes met his feet, but a sharp finger snap brought them back to Yondu.

“Speak,” he ordered and Snarf let out a loud bark, but licked his lips and shut his mouth when the Captain glared at him again.

“Yes, sir,” Peter cringed, “I didn’t think about,” he sighed, “I just didn’t think. I just wanted to save him.”

Yondu still looked angry, but he snatched one of the leftover containers from the pile balanced in Peter’s left hand and walked up the ramp.

“C’mere mutt,” the Captain sat at the table in the middle of the Milano’s main room and dropped pieces of bresquet into Snarf’s patiently waiting mouth.

Peter chuckled, slowly making his way towards the pair, “Didn’t realize you were a dog person, Yondu.”

“Don’t get smart, Petey,” he smirked, running a blue hand over the dog’s head, “An’ ya better hope Ecullard doesn’t see him, them Ba-Bani’s love these critters.”

“I’ll take him t’Xandar first thing-” Peter began.

“Y’ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Yondu said matter-of-factly, “Y’r’ship’s grounded till further notice-”

“What?! Why?!” Peter became indignant instantly, “Y’r’sittin’ here feedin’ Snarf, obviously y’don’t have-”

“Snarf?” Yondu looked like he was about to laugh, which infuriated Peter further.

“I just didn’t wanna call him  _dog_  ‘n he looks like! Dude! That is  _not_ the point!” he realized he’d gone too far too late.

Yondu set the leftovers on the table and nodded curtly at Snarf, who again found a submissive position on his belly, before standing and approaching on his insubordinate young Ravager.

“Son,” Yondu was calm, but Peter heard the strain under his voice, “The mutt is not my problem. Y’lied t’me, you wasted your time,  _my time_ , not to mention the fuel I pay for on this pretty little ship’a yours. I ain’t happy ya brought him on board, but least if you’d a been straight with me from the jump I’d’ve told’ja t’go right t’Xandar and we’d meet’cha there in a few days. We’re on our damn way there now, Quill!”

Peter’s chest tightened with anger at himself. He could be sitting at a bar on Xandar, flirting and dancing and, other things, with girls, instead of getting his ass chewed by Yondu.

“Git t’bed,” Yondu jerked his head towards the hallway, taking the remaining leftovers from Peter, who opened his mouth to refute and the Captain growled, “Now.”

Peter realized the situation could’ve been much worse, but that didn’t keep him from aggravated sulking on this walk to his room.

Kraglin leaned outside his own bedroom across the hall when Peter approached, his expression almost smug.

“How’s y'r'mutt?” the First Mate asked, sarcasm in his tone.

Peter’s temper flared, “You told him, didn’t you!?”

Kraglin hardly shrugged, but his smirk was confessing enough.

“Why the hell would’ja do that?!” Peter raged, taking two long, threatening steps in front of the man.

“You think you can do whatever y’want,” Kraglin scoffed without a flicker of intimidation, “Y’ain’t better than anybody else even if the Capt’n coddles ya-”

“Coddles me?!” Peter expelled an angry laugh.

“Spoiled,” Kraglin spat.

“Screw you-” Peter reached for the First Mate, but Kraglin reacted faster.

He twisted Peter’s right arm, flipping the younger man around and wretched his wrist painfully between his shoulder blades while knocking Peter behind the knees and pressing him to the cold floor on his stomach.

“Krag! Stop!” he shouted in shock and fear, trying to tug his arm free before Kraglin tore it from the socket.

“How ‘bout you stop?” Kraglin barked, his other hand savagely grabbing a clump of Peter’s dirty-blonde hair, “And get it through that thick skull’a yours that you follow the same rules as everybody else?”

Without a response from Peter, Kraglin shoved his head to the floor and pushed hard off the captive wrist, slamming his bedroom door before the young man had even slid his throbbing arm from his back.

Peter sniffled back the tears, swallowing hard on the lump in his throat, refusing to cry. Ravagers didn’t cry.

He slipped into his own room, anger at Kraglin bubbling in his chest as he rubbed the pain from his shoulder. Peter wasn’t surprised the First Mate kept him from attacking him, but he didn’t expect him to be so degrading in his defense. Suddenly he was really glad he hadn’t called Kraglin for advice before returning to the Eclector.

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